


dirty little secret

by newtslittleniffler



Series: I love you, but you're bringing me down (DRARRY) [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Awkward Romance, Book 4: Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, Book 5: Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, Cheating, Depression, Drarry, Drunken Confessions, Drunken Kissing, Eventual Smut, Fluff and Smut, Forbidden Love, Implied/Referenced Cheating, M/M, Minor Character Death, Non-Graphic Smut, Panic Attacks, Sad, Secret Relationship, Sexual Tension, draco malfoy/pansy parkinson - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-27
Updated: 2017-03-29
Packaged: 2018-09-12 16:48:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 30
Words: 122,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9081106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/newtslittleniffler/pseuds/newtslittleniffler
Summary: It starts off with a whispered kiss at the Yule Ball. Who knew it could spark so many problems... and a secretive relationship hidden within the darkest corners of Hogwarts.





	1. the first secret

**Author's Note:**

> this is the start of a chaptered work, I'm writing it as I go but I do have a plan. I really hope you enjoy it, thanks for reading :)

It was late. Most of the Hogwarts students had drifted off to bed or to party on further into the night away from the prying eyes of the teachers. All that were left at the Yule ball were a few teachers left to chaperone (including Hagrid and Madame Maxime who didn’t want to leave one another alone on the dance floor) and the odd group of students here and there. Harry wanted to leave, but Ron was insistent that they had to stay to make sure Hermione did nothing stupid. It was obvious it was really just because he was jealous and knew his presence would deter her from anything but… Harry chose to stay quiet. 

 

“Why do you reckon  _ Malfoy  _ is still here?” Harry muttered underneath his breath, nodding his head in the direction of the Slytherin boy. 

 

Draco was sat with Pansy Parkinson hanging onto his every word, scanning the room with fed up eyes. He looked bored out of his mind, and he had been making it quite clear for the past few days that he had no interest whatsoever in events like this, especially when they were at school. 

 

Glancing over, Ron snorted. “Probably too drunk to sleep.” 

 

Harry guessed this could be true, but surely it wasn’t the only reason? He just couldn’t shake the feeling that there was some ulterior motive to Malfoy lurking behind at the ball. He did look  _ very  _ drunk, nearly as drunk as Harry felt. Whether the staff noticed and were just turning a blind eye or they were oblivious, Harry had no idea. Even so, he had drank rather a lot and he was beginning to feel frustrated sitting down. Firewhiskey always made him really need to get up and move. 

 

“Can we dance?” He asked. 

 

Ron just looked bemused in amongst his very bad mood. “You what?” 

 

“Not  _ together _ , just… I need to dance.” 

 

“Why don’t you go ask Cho? Cedric seems to have ditched her.”

 

Harry frowned, he had forgotten all about his earlier sadness over Cho choosing to go to the Yule Ball with Diggory over him, he hadn’t even looked at her once for the past couple of hours. She was with her friends looking perfectly happy and he found he really didn’t want her company. 

 

“Nah. I’m just going to step outside for some air.” He said with a sigh, getting to his feet. 

 

Ron looked nervous, “Don’t go to bed. We should… we should wait for Hermione and walk her back to the dorms. We don’t want her showing Krum where the common room is do we?”

 

Slightly amused, Harry shook his head and clapped a hand on his best friend’s shoulder. “I’ll be back.”

As he walked across the room towards the door, he was very well aware that Draco was watching him. It was making him feel slightly anxious, he had a feeling something strange was going to happen. Maybe going outside on his own was a really bad idea, especially with all these people who hated him recently given that he was competing with one of Hogwarts’ own champions. Imagine if some haters found him alone in the dark outside… they could hurt him if they really wanted. No, that wouldn’t happen. Not at Hogwarts.

 

Still, he clumsily walked out of the great hall and found his way onto one of the courtyards. It was pretty much deserted but for a few Beauxbatons girls sat together, one of them having to be held as she cried and shouted things in French. Harry hadn’t noticed the decorations, soft music played quietly from some invisible spot and there were lights adorning the air as if they were floating. Wandering over to lean against a wall, he took a sip of his drink and looked over at the girls. He wondered why the blonde one was crying. 

 

“Potter.” 

 

Harry flinched, he should have known. Draco was standing in front of him, swaying slightly on the spot. Surprisingly, he didn’t have a sneer on his face, in fact, his eyes looked slightly red and he looked at a loss for words. Seeing the Slytherin boy in such an… intoxicated state, made Harry feel slightly uneasy.

 

“What are you doing out here Malfoy?” Harry asked, feeling for his wand in his robes with his free hand.  

 

“I saw you come out.” 

 

“So you followed me?” 

 

“Relax.” The other boy scoffed, moving to stand closer to Harry, well, stumbling. “I didn’t come out here to curse you. Just wanted to chat.” 

 

That would usually sound threatening when said by Draco Malfoy, but now his voice shook slightly. Harry frowned, still holding onto his wand but loosening his grip. “What about?” 

 

Draco thought for a moment, and then he shook his head, screwing up his face in anguish. “Nothing, I don’t- I haven’t a clue in the slight. Slightest.”

 

“Are you drunk?” Harry asked with a smirk, knowing full well that he definitely was. 

 

“No.”

 

“No?”

 

“You’re drunk I’m not at all drunk it’s all you Potter not me.” Draco said in one big breath. 

 

“We can both be drunk at one time, Malfoy.”

 

“Shut up.”

 

“Make me.”  Harry said, and then he felt the urge to laugh. They were bickering like childish friends, it was a suddenly very strange dynamic. This would all be forgotten by tomorrow, of course.

 

Draco stepped forward, holding his wand out slightly and for a second Harry was scared, he backed into the wall. That made Malfoy smirk and then he started to chuckle and soon the two of them were laughing like they were sharing an old joke. 

 

“What’s going on?” Harry asked through splutters. 

 

“We are outside.”

 

“I know.”

 

“And I was just about to make you shut up.” Draco remembered, lifting his head to meet Harry’s eyes as best as he could in the dimly lit courtyard. The girls had drifted back into the Great Hall and they were the only ones left outside. 

 

Eyes wide with alarm, Harry looked back to see where Malfoy’s wand was, but it was stowed away in the pockets of his dress robes. 

 

They were very close now. Harry gulped, slightly alarmed but too tipsy to do anything about it. Everything he did including blinking and breathing just felt slow and stilted. 

 

“Malfoy…” he said. “What are you doing?”

 

“I don’t know. I’m drunk.” Draco whispered, stepping even closer, their robes were touching and they could see each other’s breath like frosted smoke in the cold air.  

 

This had almost happened before. They had got this close after they had both crashed the same party in the Hufflepuff common room after a Quidditch Match. They had both been drunk and gotten each other alone. But they had broke apart instantly and ran back to bed in shock. But now… they were a lot more drunk than that previous incident. 

 

“What are you thinking?”

 

“I’m thinking that… you’re my fucking enemy.” Draco murmured, he frowned, as if thinking anything was a strain to his mind. “I’m thinking, that you’re way too pretty to die right now.”

 

Feeling his cheeks flame up, Harry tried to avoid those grey eyes he knew more than he ever cared to admit. It was just weird, looking into the eyes of the boy he wanted to kill so badly in the daylight hours. The boy who was always on his mind. And now that boy… was here. Wanting... wanting to be this close to him. 

 

“What else?” He asked, voice coming out all choked up. 

 

“I’m thinking that- that…” he broke off. He was leaning in. 

 

Their lips were so close to touching. In the darkness, Draco’s wand hand reached out to take Harry’s… it was almost like a promise that their wands were away. No curses and hexes. Their noses were brushing. They were alone in the entire courtyard. 

 

  
And then they were kissing. It was slow, it was long and passionate and it was all in a whisper. A screaming whisper. Hidden in the secret folds of Hogwarts, the magic was making both of them feel like they were flying as their lips touched. Harry lifted his other hand and he stroked the back of it across Draco’s cheek. He hadn’t realised how long he had wanted to do that, it was so soft and so smooth. Then he tangled his fingers gently into the blonde locks that he always teased but secretly thought made Draco look quite handsome. There were butterflies in his stomach and his head was swimming, everything was swimming, flying, swinging, dancing, twirling. A carousel of thoughts and feelings were messing up his already blurry head and he didn’t care. In fact, he liked it. 

 

When they eventually broke apart it didn’t feel eventual at all, it felt way too fast. They both thought so but… suddenly they dropped right back to earth. They opened their eyes (literally) and realised properly that they were Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter. They shouldn’t be kissing… it wasn’t good. It wasn’t for them. 

 

They stumbled away from each other, Harry stuffed his hands into his pockets so that he couldn’t be tempted to do anything else. 

 

“We just…” Draco gasped, clapping his hands to his lips. 

 

“Yeah.” 

 

“We shouldn’t have…”

 

“No, we probably shouldn’t.” Harry gulped, stepping away from the wall and more into the light. He scanned the courtyard, a lot less slow and sleepy and a lot more alarmed and shaky. “Nobody’s here.”

 

“This can’t ever happen again Potter.” Draco snapped, his usual sneering tone already returning. “We can’t let it ever happen again.  _ Or  _ mentioned. If you tell anybody… don’t think I won’t kill you.”

 

“Same goes for you.” Harry whispered. 

 

He turned around and darted back into the castle before any other words (or more) could be exchanged. When he returned to the great hall and lowered himself hastily into the seat beside Ron, the latter barely even seemed to notice, thank Merlin. He was too busy watching Hermione dancing with Viktor.

 

“He keeps touching her arm.” He muttered angrily. 

 

“That tends to happen when you dance with somebody.” Harry replied, not really thinking of the fact that this would do nothing to soothe the already seething Ron.

 

“He looks like an ape.”

 

Sighing, Harry leaned back into his seat. He lifted his eyes to where Draco had been sitting earlier and sure enough he had returned. He was sat with Pansy, she was kissing his cheek. At the exact same moment, both of their bad luck had it that they met one another’s gaze at the same time. Just as she was kissing him. 

 

That made Harry’s insides boil. He had kissed Draco when he knew he had come to the ball with Pansy. And… and he had come earlier with  _ Pavarti  _ and hadn’t even given her a single thought. He felt sick. 

 

“I have to go.” he said to Ron, getting to his feet and turning his back so he couldn’t see Malfoy. 

 

“We can’t go, what about-”

  
“You stay here, I have to go.” Harry insisted, and ignoring the fact that Ron would most definitely be pissed off with him in the morning, he sprinted from the room. 


	2. same mistakes

The moment Harry opened his eyes the next morning, he immediately regretted it. His head was heavy with a physical ache but even worse… an ache of all the memories from last night. They just came flooding back, and the stream wouldn’t stop rushing either. The more he thought, the more the memory of kissing Draco Malfoy seemed to sting. Ron was still sleeping in his bed, and sure enough when Harry checked his watch it was very early indeed. He could only have got two or three hours sleep, it was just past five in the morning. Still, he knew he wouldn’t be getting any more sleep even if he was hungover. He was feeling  _ ravenous _ , but they wouldn’t be serving breakfast for a while yet. Sighing, he rolled over onto his back and stared at the canopy of his bed. 

 

He didn’t know what to make of the situation whatsoever. Draco had kissed him. And Harry had let him. Not just that, but… the kiss was wonderful. It had made him feel so elated, so  _ free  _ and happy. And even though he was guilty, even though it felt wrong and like he should be ashamed - it felt like it was meant to be. It had felt… like he’d been wanting it all along. The past four years of dispute and torment suddenly seemed a lot less hateful and a lot more - zealous. Passion filled hate, deep down. These thoughts were beginning to make Harry feel sick to the stomach, he was beginning to really strongly dislike himself for it.

 

There was no way he could like Malfoy. It would be wrong. They were enemies, and that’s the way it would always be. Draco was with Pansy and he seemed to really regret last night as well. They were both just drunk and confused and feeling lonely. And they hadn’t been in the mood to argue so they kissed instead. So what? It meant nothing. 

 

It wasn’t wrong because Draco was a boy. Not at all. Harry had dealt with finding out he was a wizard with open arms, and the fact that he could kiss a boy wasn’t any different. All of that was a part of him, he wouldn’t try and change it. However, liking Draco (not that he did, of course) was  _ not  _ a part of him. It wouldn’t and couldn’t ever be. Everyone in the entire year, entire  _ school _ , knew that the pair of them were just meant to be foes. That was just the way it was. 

 

With a heavy sigh, Harry buried his head into the pillow. His stomach rumbled. He tried to distract himself, to think of something. The golden egg, right, yes! Harry tried as hard as he could to focus on the golden egg. He really needed to start attempting to work out what the task was, if not he would just end up failing and humiliating himself in front of the whole school. Times like this, Harry really resented his own procrastinating self. He always left things to the last minute, even life and death things. Tiptoeing across the room, he picked up the clue and clambered back into his bed, sitting upright with a blanket across his lap. 

 

He thought hard, he really did, but he honestly had no idea what it could mean and he definitely wasn’t about to open it and reveal the terrible screeching sound once more. Naturally, his mind started to drift. Back to last night.

 

Back to kissing Malfoy. To stroking his hand across his cheek, through his hair. The way his lips felt, the way his breath had tasted of pumpkin juice and he had smelled  _ really really  _ good. Whatever expensive fragrance the Malfoy’s had, Harry wanted it. That fact made his skin crawl, he knew the scent should make him sick. But he just  _ wanted  _ it. He wanted Malfoy. 

 

“Morning Harry.” Ron spoke, making Harry jump. “Why didn’t you wake me?” 

 

“What?” Harry asked with a frown, Ron usually threw things when somebody woke him up. 

 

“Presents!” Ron gestured to both of their piles. 

 

Harry had actually managed to forget  _ Christmas  _ and not even noticed his small but heartwarming bunch of presents on the floor at the foot of his bed. Stupid Malfoy had made him forget Christmas at Hogwarts - his favourite time of year. Scowling to himself for just a second, he crawled (his headache was quickly worsening) to pick up his gifts.

  
  
  


*********************

  
  


Later on at breakfast, Harry found himself landed in the middle of a very uncomfortable silence. Harry and Ron were both tired and hungover which made the air even frostier - Hermione was not happy with how drunk the pair of them had got. 

 

“You had a drink or two as well.” Harry pointed out moodily, stabbing a sausage with discontent. His appetite seemed to have ran away along with any small sense of Christmas cheer he had gathered. 

 

“Not enough to be hungover on Christmas.” Hermione said. She was in a bad mood, Harry had no idea why. 

 

Everybody else surrounding them was of course merry, laughing and exchanging christmas presents and wishes. The breakfast was more delicious than normal, it was snowing from the ceiling. Harry was glaring at his food, Ron was cutting up his food with way too much aggression. 

 

Knowing full well why he himself felt so miserable, he wondered what had happened to upset Ron and Hermione. They had barely said a word to each other other than to say happy christmas, which had been said begrudgingly. Harry knew not to ask though, he wouldn’t get a civilised answer. It would probably just break the silence and make them bicker. 

 

“What did you get for Christmas, Hermione?” Harry asked instead, trying to make conversation. 

 

“Books.” She said flatly. 

 

She didn’t elaborate, or ask Harry the same question. The silence returned. 

 

Harry had no interest in the food anymore and the others clearly weren’t going to even attempt to socialise when the pair of them were together, so he got up without a word and left the table. It really wasn’t a good start to Christmas and he had a feeling it wouldn’t get any better. At least it was better than being back at the Dursley’s, and he had gotten some really lovely presents. He was of course wearing his newly knitted sweater sent by Mrs Weasley and it was a perfect fit.

 

When Harry got back to the common room, there was hardly anyone there. This was the weirdest Christmas, everybody nursing hangovers after the Yule Ball had put quite a depressing vibe in the air. 

 

“Hi Harry.” 

 

Ginny was sat by the fire, sporting her own sweater and nibbling on some chocolate. 

 

“Oh, morning Ginny. Merry christmas.”

 

“Merry christmas!” she said with a smile, gesturing for him to sit down. “You look as merry as I feel.”

 

“Well, I probably shouldn’t have had so much last night.” He said shakily, he didn’t want to talk about last night, he couldn’t bear to imagine what would happen if anybody found out about him and Draco. “And Hermione and Ron aren’t speaking for some reason.”

 

“Didn’t you see?” she asked, eyebrows raised. 

 

“See what?”

 

“They had some sort of argument. Ron made Hermione cry.” she bit her lip, thinking. “He was saying that Viktor is just using her and couldn’t possibly like her.”

 

Harry groaned, rolling his eyes. Ron really didn’t have any tact whatsoever. Ginny nodded, she also looked as if her brother made her despair. “I should have just gone home for Christmas. I don’t know if the ball was worth this depressing air.”

 

“Why aren’t you in the christmas spirit then?”

 

“Same as you.” Ginny replied, cracking a small smile. 

 

_ Ginny also snogged a drunken Draco Malfoy last night?  _ Harry scoffed in his head. No, she was just referring to being hungover. His problem was a lot worse than a hangover. 

***************

 

Much later on, Harry, Ron and Hermione were walking through the castle to go down for dinner. The air had warmed up slightly now - Ron had started to feel guilty and given Hermione her christmas present and she seemed to forgive him for last night. Harry, on the other hand, continued to feel particularly down spirited. At least his friends were back to normal, though. 

 

“The turkey.” Ron was saying dreamily, his mouth watering as he lusted for the christmas feast. “I always love the turkey.” 

 

“It’s weird, there being so many people here for Christmas.” Hermione thought out loud, ignoring Ron’s food trance. “It’s never this crowded.”

 

“Everybody wanted to stay for the ball, didn’t they.” Harry pointed out, stifling a yawn. He was starting to get tired, putting him in the worst mood imaginable. He just wanted to go straight to bed. 

 

“Yes, I don’t blame them. It really was quite fun. Before.... The fireworks happened.” Hermione replied, clearing her throat. 

 

Ron made a noise of frustration but didn’t say anything about the dig, he obviously thought he deserved it. They started to talk about something different then, but Harry wasn’t listening. He was running away with his train of thoughts. And then he thought he was going to be sick. 

 

The three of them stopped altogether as they nearly walked into Draco Malfoy, he had come practically sprinting round the corner but now stood frozen on the spot. Harry hadn’t seen him once all day, the last time had been when Pansy was kissing him. He could feel the others bracing themselves as they always did when confronted by their least favourite Slytherin, expecting an insult of some sort. 

 

Draco looked incredibly pale. Ghastly, even. And he was panting, as if he had practically raced through his Christmas dinner. As if he had been trying to eat and be gone without having to see Harry. Looking more and more sheepish, Draco shoved his hands into his pockets and stalked past them. 

 

“That was weird.” Hermione muttered, looking over her shoulder. 

 

“Yeah, weird.” Snorted Ron, “Wouldn’t have thought Christmas would stop Malfoy from being a git.” 

 

They didn’t notice Harry’s racing heart, flaming cheeks, sweaty palms. They didn’t notice that seeing Draco had just made him feel a whole new wave of emotions. 

 

Harry didn’t have a crush on Malfoy, he told himself. He had a crush on  _ Cho _ . That felt incredibly frustrating but it was also sort of nice, he liked the tingly feeling he used to get when he saw her.  _ Used to _ . But this… it wasn’t a crush. The feelings he had just got - they weren’t feelings of infatuation. He had felt disgusted and hate filled and ashamed. He was choosing to ignore the butterflies. It  _ wasn’t a crush _ . 

 

Even if he really wanted to kiss Malfoy. Oh god, he wanted to kiss him. He hadn’t realised how starving he had been for the kisses until he’d been teased with just one. This was like the cruelest kind of torture, Harry thought to himself, sitting down at the table and glaring at his christmas cracker.  

  
  
  


*************

  
  


It was a week after the incident at the Yule ball, and the day before classes were due to restart. The second task was also drawing closer, and Harry  _ still _ hadn’t figured out the clue. Even so, that didn’t stop him from holding it off even further. Instead, he was posting a letter to Sirius detailing how unfortunately unfestive the christmas season had been for him, assuring his Godfather that he hadn’t really missed out on much. He knew he shouldn’t really be posting it, they were only supposed to write for serious situations but… he felt lonely. 

 

Hermione and Ron were pretending to be okay with each other but they were still awkward about the events of the previous week, and this awkwardness inevitably rubbed off onto Harry as well. So he was lonely and feeling quite self depreciative to say the least. Not that he could tell Sirius exactly why. Even so, it felt good to have somebody to talk to. 

 

The moment he got into the owlery, he immediately wanted to punch himself. Not that he needed the feeling, he felt as if his gut was being twisted by some demonic hand. This was a feeling he had started to know and hate. He’d been getting it three times a day at least, whenever he lay eyes on Malfoy. And now Malfoy was stood in front of him, in the owlery alone scribbling out a message. He hadn’t noticed Harry come in. For a moment, the Gryffindor boy stood for a second, studying Draco’s face. For years he hadn’t noticed the face of the other boy at all, but now it practically made his heart skip. He hated himself for it. 

 

Backing away slowly, he planned on trying to sneak out of the owlery and going back to his dorm, he could return later. 

 

“Leaving so soon?” Malfoy asked, not looking up from his parchment and quill. 

 

“Um.” Harry stuttered, flustered and almost dropping his wand. “I was- well. What-” 

 

Smirking, Malfoy looked up to meet his gaze. They hadn’t been alone together since… since that night. Usually when they bumped into each other they were as nervous as each other but it seemed Malfoy only got scared if others could see them. 

 

“Don’t let me stop you, scarhead. Visit your owl or whatever it is you came to do. Not like you have anyone to write to, is it?”

 

Harry glared at him. Even if he was an exceptionally good kisser, Malfoy really was a prick. 

 

“And who is it you’re writing to, Malfoy?” He asked, “Daddy death eater?” 

 

He normally wouldn’t have said anything like that, and he immediately regretted it. He never mentioned the death eater thing, it just felt like dangerous territory.  _ Too  _ dangerous. It certainly did the trick at shaking Draco though, so he didn’t care as much. Trying to ignore the sinking feeling in his stomach, he walked over to where Hedwig perched, calling her down to his arm. He had his back to Malfoy and felt very unsafe, but he didn’t want to face him either. 

 

This was too weird. He didn’t like this. He wished he could just detest him, not detest him but also really really want to be close with him. He wanted to touch him, he  _ craved  _ him. But he also wanted to stab him. 

 

“You seem to be shaking, Potter.” Draco said, he had moved to stand closer to Harry somehow, the latter having not noticed the movement at all and now he flinched. “Nervous?”

 

“Why would I be nervous?” Harry snapped, “Why are you standing so close to me?” He was alarmed now, last time they had been close… well. 

 

They couldn’t kiss anymore. Harry got too messed up by it the first time. He didn’t like these feelings it gave him. 

 

“Scared?”

 

“You wish.” 

 

They glared into each other’s eyes. 

 

“You have no chance at winning this second task.” Draco said coldly. “You got by the last one on sheer luck, you won’t be that lucky a second time.”

 

“Yeah, and you won’t be so lucky outside of Hogwarts that you won’t get what’s coming to you.” Harry retorted, “You’re a git and everybody knows it, you think you’ll survive a day without daddy watching over you?”

 

“The way you keep talking about my dad makes it so much more obvious how much you miss your own.”

 

“Don’t you dare talking about my parents.”

 

“Don’t you dare talk to  _ me _ .”

 

“You started it!” Harry spat. 

 

This was by far the most childish argument they had had since first year, flinging pointless insults at one another back and forth for no reason, talking in mimicking tones. 

 

“I didn’t start anything. You- you can’t blame it on me. It wasn’t just me. You wanted it too.” 

 

The conversation had most definitely changed now. They were discussing the kiss without actually discussing it. Harry didn’t know whether or not he was glad about this subject change, but he did know he had been needing to talk about it since it happened. 

 

“I’m only doing what you’re provoking.” He replied, taking a step to close the space between them. 

 

“I’m not provoking you in the slightest!”

 

“Why are you getting so close?” Harry asked, “How’s that not provoking?”

 

“I’m  _ not _ !”

 

They both stopped, the air seemed to breathe as they both drew in sharp breaths. They were towering one another, sizing each other up. They were close. It was completely silent now, no more arguing. Harry was confused. Being this close to the boy who had caused chaos in his head for the past week was now making his head completely numb and senseless. 

 

He didn’t know who moved first but one of them did. They were locked together again. They were  _ soberly  _ kissing and it felt different. More controlled, not quite as messy. It felt cold, it felt stiff and uncertain. It felt angry. Yes,  _ angry _ , the longer they kissed the more rage boiled through Harry’s blood and through his bones. He hated himself for liking it so much, he hated Draco for being here, for allowing it to happen. 

 

Harry shoved a little, trying to be the one in charge, he didn’t want to be the one controlled anymore. He tried to push, but Draco noticed and pushed harder, backing the Gryffindor boy into the wall. He held a firm grip, pressing him down so that he was the taller one. The kiss slowly grew less uncomfortable. It was out of control now, it was crazy. Their hands were all over one another, their tongues were in one another’s mouths, their breaths were growing wilder and wilder. It was freezing cold in the owlery but it felt like their skin was burning as one fire. 

 

Suddenly, Harry realised just what was going on again. He was kissing Draco Malfoy. He had sworn he wouldn’t let it happen again. Even if he dreamed of it non stop, he couldn’t let that be the case, he couldn’t let himself like Draco, not like that. He came from a family of death eaters, the very people who wanted so badly to kill Harry. They were sworn enemies. 

 

Somehow managing to regain control of his limbs, he pulled away and shoved Draco off of him. It was a lot more vigorous than he intended and Malfoy’s back hit the wall behind him and some of the owls flapped their wings irritably. 

 

“That wasn’t supposed to happen.” Draco whispered, lifting a hand to his mouth. He looked up, eyes wide and afraid. “It can’t happen.”

 

“No. It wasn’t.” Harry replied, shaking his head. 

 

“Stay away from me.” Draco said coldly. His face returned to it’s regular, cool expression. “Don’t… don’t come near me. I can’t-” even if his face was back to normal he was still panting, he was still confused. Shaking his head, he turned and marched out the room, practically knocking over a young Hufflepuff Harry didn’t recognise. 

  
No. That would definitely never happen again. 


	3. an easier death

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to those of you who have bookmarked and left kudos and feedback - it really does mean a lot. I'm glad you're liking my take on the angsty Drarry ship :D

Harry was irritated. It was the night before he was to be participating in the second Triwizard Tournament task, he still had no idea how he was supposed to hold his breath underwater for an hour, and he couldn’t find Ron or Hermione anywhere. They had promised to do as much as they could in attempt to help him succeed, but now they seemed to have vanished off of the face of the earth. He was sat in the corner of the library hidden behind a giant stack of books, but none of them contained any spell, any potion,  _ nothing _ . 

 

What made it worse, was that he was trying so hard to focus but anytime he tried his mind would just wander, there was nothing he could do to stop it. And when his mind wandered… 

 

He really didn’t understand what was going on. Draco Malfoy plagued his every waking thought, and no matter how hard he tried to shake him out of his head it just did nothing. He couldn’t work out  _ why.  _ He couldn’t work out  _ how  _ it could be that Draco would want to kiss him twice, and how in the name of Merlin could Harry enjoy it? And want more? But he did want more, he really really did. 

Obviously, he knew that the pair of them could never actually be together, and nobody could ever find out that they did anything together. It just couldn’t ever get out, he had a feeling the consequences would be catastrophic. But... when Harry shut his eyes at night, he saw himself and Draco against the backs of his eyelids. And when he dreamed… well. They were vivid dreams, to say the least. And when he saw Draco about the school - he turned to a wobbling mess of jelly. 

 

Frustrated, he flipped a page of a book without reading the contents, perhaps with a bit much aggression for the page ripped. Instantly Madam Pince rounded the corner and practically growled at him, he hastily pointed his wand at the book and muttered  _ reparo  _ underneath his breath. She backed away, watching him with beady eyes. And walked straight back into Draco Malfoy. 

 

Harry felt his skin began to boil with rage, along with his bubbling blood. The world just seemed to be completely against him recently and he had had enough of it. He tried not to look, but Draco was watching him with a close eye, ignoring the librarian snapping at him to look where he’s going. He was with Pansy, she was holding onto his arm and it made Harry twitch. They went to sit at a table in the opposite corner, which just so happened to be within earshot of Harry. The gryffindor boy wondered if Draco did that on purpose, trying to wind him up. It was definitely working. 

 

He tried not to listen in, but he couldn’t help it when they were sat so close. Pansy kept giggling, and he could hear the gross sounds of them kissing. He clenched his fists. 

 

“I thought we could go to Hogsmeade together.” Pansy was saying, her voice much more girlish than usual, high pitched and a very lame attempt at sounding flirty. “You know, just me and you.”

 

“Yeah, maybe.” Draco muttered, he didn’t sound very up for it. That was something at least, whatever was going on he definitely wasn’t as up for kissing Pansy than he had been the two times with Harry. 

 

“What do you mean maybe? The trip is in a few days, we should decide now. I need to know if I need to wear something special.” Pansy simpered, leaning over Draco’s shoulder, draping herself around him and making it practically impossible for him to focus on his homework. Harry smirked, always taking pleasure in watching Malfoy get annoyed. 

 

“Just wear whatever you like Pansy, I really couldn’t care less.” 

 

“Why are you being such a prick, Malfoy?” Pansy pouted, “I just want to spend some time with you, I thought you wanted to be my boyfriend!”

 

Harry was watching with raised eyebrows, forgetting to try and be discreet. He was daring Draco to say no, to tell Pansy he wanted nothing to do with her or any stupid Hogsmeade trip. Not daring, he was silently  _ begging _ . He hated that Draco could have a girlfriend and not care about Harry in the slightest, when he himself was non-stop dreaming about being with the Slytherin. It seemed as if Draco was about to say no as well, Pansy was starting to look more and more pouty. 

 

For the first time since he had sat down, Draco looked up. He met Harry’s gaze, obviously knowing that the other boy had been watching him for the whole time. He stared, he made sure he had his full attention. Then he turned to Pansy and gave her that handsome smile. 

 

“I’d love to go with you, Pansy.” He said. 

 

Harry wanted to punch something. He wanted to punch  _ Draco _ . He was doing all of this purposely to wind Harry up, it was obvious. He wanted to irritate him as much as he could, by any means. Even if it meant kissing him and telling him to keep it secret, even if it meant looking as good as humanly possible, basically teasing Harry in public when nobody even knew it.  

 

“Yay!” Pansy squealed, clapping her hands. “It’ll be perfect, I know the perfect place we can go!” She leaned forwards and kissed Draco again, long and hard, running her fingers through his blonde hair. 

 

Feeling slightly sick, Harry tried not to think about the fact that he should be the one kissing those lips, he should be the one with his hands in his hair. He had never seen  _ Pansy Parkinson  _ move in such a fluttery way, but he watched her with hate filled eyes as she danced out of the library. He slowly returned his gaze to Draco, trying to be secretive, but Malfoy was already watching him. He was smirking. He knew he was torturing Harry, and of course, he was enjoying every minute of it. They were enemies. They were meant to hate each other, they were meant to infuriate one another. But Harry still felt somewhat saddened. 

He couldn’t bring himself to be as cruel. He couldn’t bring himself to even think of kissing anyone else - and it wasn’t like he thought Draco would even care. It was different for both of them. Draco didn’t care about Harry, not really. Maybe he liked kissing him, but he still saw Harry as  _ The Chosen One _ . He still saw him as his enemy. He still despised him. Harry despised Draco of course but...  he also had undeniable feelings for him. He would try and shove them down as much as he could, but he definitely had them. 

 

They were having a staring contest. It was the most intense one Harry had ever had, too, looking Draco up and down was making his heart beat way too fast. It never used to be like this… why did Draco have to ruin everything by kissing him on Christmas Eve! It was so easy to hate Draco, to insult him. Now he just really wanted to smash his face into Malfoy’s. Eventually, he broke the gaze. 

 

He stared intently down at his book, trying as hard as he could to pay attention to the words. Of course, none of them actually fixed in his brain. He knew Draco was still watching him and it was making him feel uneasy, but he wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of looking back up. 

 

It was getting later and later and he still had no idea what he should do tomorrow. He would probably die drowning in the black lake, and he didn’t know if he cared. This sickening  _ crush  _ was killing him anyway. 

 

“What’s that you’re reading, Scarhead?” 

 

He practically jumped out of his skin - he hadn’t even noticed Draco get up from his chair and come to stand by him. Of course, now that everybody had gone off to bed, Draco would actually talk to him. They were completely alone in this section of the library. The nickname pissed Harry off a lot more than usual. Everything was a test of his patience that day and he had the sudden urge to smash the huge stack of books right over Malfoy’s head. 

 

“What’s it got to do with you, Malfoy?” He snapped. 

 

Draco hooted, mocking him. “Someone’s testy.”

 

“ _ Someone  _ has to face some bullshit task first thing tomorrow and will probably die or get some kind of horrible injury and you sitting over there really isn’t helping.” He retorted, angrily turning a page, practically slamming it down. 

 

“And what would help?” Draco asked then, his voice slightly soft, quiet. Like he didn’t want anybody to hear him offering Harry help? No, he wouldn’t do that. He didn’t care about Harry’s well being whatsoever - why would he? 

 

“Don’t ignore me, Potter.” He said through gritted teeth, “What would help?”

 

Harry considered this. Maybe Malfoy actually could do something to help. He could tell him the clue… the damned song from the egg was making his headache even more intense.

 

_ Come seek us wh _ ere our voices sound

_ We cannot sing above the ground _

_ An hour long you’ll have to look _

_ To recover what we took……… _

 

Just thinking it made Harry want to gouge his eyes out with needles. But did he really want Draco’s help? Just because they kissed a few times it didn’t mean he could trust him in the slightest. And Draco was a prick, Pansy herself had said it. Harry didn’t want anything to do with him, nothing at all. 

 

“Nothing.” Harry said. “I don’t want any of  _ your  _ help. I’d rather lose the tournament entirely than have anything more from  _ you _ . You’ve done enough.” 

 

He rose to his feet and gathered up all his books, all of them banging down on the pile with a loud  _ thump _ . Draco stood looking mightily pissed off, clenching his jaw. He never ever offered anyone help and he had actually gritted his teeth to ask  _ Harry Potter _ and it had been chucked back in his face. Well, it deserved him right, Harry thought to himself. 

 

“Potter, don’t-” 

 

“Don’t talk to me, Malfoy. Just shove off.” Harry said, raising his voice, not caring who heard. 

 

He picked up his stack and marched off past Draco without another word, making sure to knock into him with his shoulder. He’d rather try and find a way in the common room even if it was filled with the noise of all his house mates, than have to be in a room with Draco. It was just too difficult.  

  
  


**************

 

Neither Hermione or Ron returned to the common room that night, much to Harry’s anger. It just seemed like everything was going wrong for him lately, he was feeling a lot more resentful to the world than usual. It was so late now, he definitely wouldn’t be getting a good night of sleep before the triwizard task tomorrow, and he had no idea what he was going to do, either. 

 

Even with this looming threat of some kind of terrible danger coming at him the following day, he just couldn’t stop thinking about other things. He was being distracted, thinking about how much he couldn’t stand Draco and stupid  _ Pansy Parkinson  _ and how he detested the feeling he got every time he laid eyes on them. 

 

He hated himself for getting jealous. It was  _ Draco _ . He shouldn’t be feeling like that, it made him shake. Shake with anger and also… fear. 

 

“You alright Harry?” 

 

Once again, Harry jumped as somebody spoke to him. It was Neville, one of the last remaining people left in the common room. 

 

“Not really, Neville.” Harry muttered, sighing and slamming yet another book shut.

 

“Anything I can help you with?” 

 

Harry really doubted it. What would Neville be able to do to help him think of something that Hermione hadn’t been able to? But he was there, and Hermione wasn’t. 

 

“Got any clue how I can survive being underwater for an hour?” 

 

“Actually…” 

 

Well. The lesser of two problems slowly seemed to ease off of his shoulders as he listened to Neville explaining the wonders of gillyweed, but that didn’t relax his nerves. He was still kept awake for hours over thinking every small detail from the only encounter he had had with Draco all day. He was kept awake by him every night. Thoughts of his words, his arrogance, his cockiness, his nastiness, his  _ lips  _ and his kisses and the way he had felt. The way Harry wanted nothing more than to hold Malfoy in his arms.  _ Malfoy _ . It was all wrong. 

  
Maybe he wouldn’t use the gillyweed after all. Dying would be a lot easier. 


	4. green eyed monster

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy new year!!

There was yet another party in the Gryffindor common room celebrating something that Harry had done and he wanted nothing less than to be in attendance. He may have got second place in the Triwizard task after the mermaids fought his case, but he still felt very much like a loser. Not to mention, he had never felt quite so lonely in such a massive group of his friends. They were all laughing and congratulating him, dancing to songs on the radio, socialising with one another. He felt really ungrateful, but honestly, Harry would much rather have been in bed. Not that he would have been able to get a wink of sleep, it was so loud, but - he just didn’t want to be at the party.

  
There was definitely someone he could think of who he would much rather be with.

  
“What’s up?” Ron asked, appearing next to him on the sofa with two bottles of firewhiskey.

  
Harry took it and took a half hearted sip, not really caring for the buzz the drink was intended to give. “Nothing’s up.” He said defensively.

  
Raising his eyebrows, Ron leaned back in his chair. “Alright then. I’ll tell you what mate, when Fleur Delacour kissed me on the cheek earlier… I don’t think I’d ever been touched by a woman before, yet alone an angel.”

  
“Yeah.” Harry muttered, not really listening.

  
Seeing that he wasn’t getting any good conversation from his best friend, Ron heaved a sigh and got to his feet, moving to stand with Dean and Seamus on the other side of the common room, they were talking to Fred and George about something or other. Harry can feel his heart getting slightly out of hand, thumping a lot harder than usual. He was starting to feel hot and sweaty too, like he really had to escape.

  
Getting to his feet, he made sure nobody was watching him before crossing through the crowd to the portrait hole. Hermione was sat nearby knitting, thank God, she was so focused on the needles that she would never have noticed him as he slipped out.

  
Instantly he felt better, being away from his fellow Gryffindor’s seemed to soften the weighty pressure on his shoulders a bit. Being around them… it was sort of nerve wracking. If any of them somehow had been gifted the power to read minds, Harry would be screwed. A traitor. If anyone even knew how he thought of Draco Malfoy… the thought made him shiver. Finding an abandoned classroom, Harry wandered in aimlessly.

  
Maybe he had intended to end up near the Slytherin dungeons, but he wasn’t about to admit to that. He was sat on one of the tables, tapping his nails against the wood and thinking over the events of the day. He wandered if anybody would even notice that he had ditched the party supposedly for him. If anything, they all just loved the excuse of a party. They probably would have had one if he had lost.

  
Harry flinched. He thought maybe he imagined but then…

  
“Why can’t we just stay in the common room, Pansy?” He could hear Draco complaining, they were coming closer. He could hear their footsteps echoing around the corridor.

  
“Because anybody could easily see us.”

  
Harry froze on the spot for a second. Of course they could easily just carry on going, head straight past the classroom but… just his luck, they would most definitely end up coming in here. He considered for a second just staying there, then they could go somewhere else but… he didn’t fancy explaining to them why he was in the Slytherin area of the castle, sat alone in some empty classroom. He rose to his feet, hovering uncertainly for a moment too long. They were getting closer, any second now he would be hearing them push the door open. Eyes darting around the room, he eventually noticed the huge desk at the front of the classroom, he definitely wouldn’t be seen behind there. He dashed over and sat with his back to the wood, facing the wall. He pulled his legs up to his chest, hugging himself. Then he thought… oh god. He hadn’t thought. He could only wonder why Pansy and Draco were coming in so that nobody could see them. What in the name of Merlin were they planning on doing?

  
Sure enough, they went into the exact same classroom that Harry had gone into for refuge. The world really was out to get him it seemed - why did he always have to end up in the same place at the same time as Draco and his stupid girlfriend!?

  
“Perfect.” He heard Pansy say, and then the door closed.

  
“Sofa’s are definitely a lot more comfortable.” Draco muttered.

  
His voice alone seemed to be enough to make Harry’s stomach do flips, his heart to start skipping uncontrollably. It was ridiculous, that voice used to just enrage Harry. He would much rather have pure hatred in his heart.

  
“Come on Draco,” Pansy said, it sounded as if she pulled out a chair. “Don’t you want me?”

  
Hesitation. Maybe Pansy didn’t notice, but Harry most certainly did. There was too long a pause before Draco replied, “You know I want you.”

  
“You don’t act like it.” Pansy murmured, Harry wondered what they were doing but he didn’t dare look. Maybe they were sat together, maybe she was draped all over him… or maybe they were stood on opposite sides of the classroom, tense and awkward. The dynamics would change the situation entirely. Either way, Harry really wished he wasn’t hearing the conversation.

  
“You only act like you want me when- when you’re horny. When you want someone to attend to you.”

  
“That’s not true.” Draco said, though it didn’t sound like he believed himself. “I really do care about you, Pansy. You’re- you’re beautiful. Any boy would be lucky to have you.”

  
“Yeah, they would.” Pansy replied. “So why don’t you act like it?”

  
There was silence. Harry was getting more and more irritable, he just wanted to get up and storm out but if they found him hiding behind the desk the consequences would probably be even worse than if he had just let them see him in the beginning. He heard footsteps.

  
“I know I’m lucky.” Draco said, his voice gentle. Soothing. Seductive. “It’s an honour that I get to be the one to kiss you. To hold you.”

  
It was obvious to anyone who saw the way the two of them were together, that Draco used her. He just wanted someone for sex, and maybe he wanted someone to make Harry jealous, but he didn’t care about her. Not in the way a boyfriend should. Even though Harry knew this deep down, he still couldn’t help but feel put out. It pained him, seeing Draco with Pansy. Even worse hearing this moment.

  
He felt lonely, and he felt even more lustful. The fact that he could lust for someone even when he could clearly see they were horrible, they were using someone for sex… it disgusted him. He hated himself for it. But as he sat there, frozen on the spot and listening to the two of them kissing - it felt heartbreaking. His heart was being shattered into a million pieces. Draco Malfoy had an iron grip on him, and he knew it. And he would do whatever he could to amuse himself. He could make Harry jump through hoops of fire if he wanted and he knew it.

  
It was terrible. Harry felt disgusted by himself, not just because of that but because he was sat here listening to Pansy and Draco snogging. He really hoped it didn’t turn into anything more because he didn’t think he could handle that. He seemed to be shaking, he lifted his hand but then - his elbow knocked the table. Something fell off of the top of the desk and he felt the air freeze. He tried hard not to make a sound and hoped with his life that none of them came over to investigate whatever it was that had crashed to the ground. He cupped a hand to his mouth.

  
“I’ve always thought this classroom was haunted.” Draco said, “And not in the nice kind.”

  
“Someone’s here.” Pansy said.

  
“No, it’s the ghost.” Draco said in a mock spooky voice, but it still managed to sound like his usual slow drawl. “Don’t bother picking it up.”

  
Pansy had obviously gone to walk over, but Draco seemed to be stopping her. “I’ll tell you what, you go back to the common room. I’ll tell Crabbe and Goyle to stay up and we can go in my room.”

  
“Aren’t you coming with me?” she asked.

  
“Yeah, I will. There’s just something I have to take care of first.”

  
Harry’s blood seemed to turn to lead in his veins. Draco was staying here. He knew, and he wanted to take care of Harry. Something sounded very threatening about that, what if he hexed him or something? Harry waited for Pansy to leave, waited until the door was shut before he got to his feet. Draco was sat on a desk, and he was watching Harry. He looked very amused.

  
“Didn’t take you for a pervert.”

  
Harry’s hand twitched to grab his wand from his robes, he kept a firm grip around it just in case. “I’m not, I was-”

  
“Yeah, don’t have to make any excuses for me, Potter. I really don’t care.” Draco cut him off, still with that annoying arrogant mask on his face. “I hope you enjoyed the show.”

  
“Did you know I was here from the start?” Harry asked.

  
Draco looked taken aback. Maybe it was a weird question, or at least a pointless question. But it mattered to Harry. Mattered because if Draco knew he was there and still continued to kiss Pansy, to say all that stuff about being lucky…. He knew what he did to Harry. He knew what torture the other boy was going through. And he just did anything he could to tease.

  
“Actually I didn’t.” Draco told him. “But I could tell when you hit the desk. I thought- I thought I could smell your aftershave when I first came in.”

  
Harry frowned, thinking that over. Draco knew what aftershave he wore? He didn’t really know what to say. It was getting very awkward, the pair of them facing each other but not meeting each other’s gaze, the silence growing uncomfortable.

  
Deciding it best not to say anything else, Harry went to leave without so much as a goodbye.

  
“Well done today.” Draco said, his voice quieter than ever. Like he couldn’t risk anyone hearing him congratulating Harry Potter. Harry stopped on the spot, still facing the door. “I’m glad that you did it. I was… I was…. Scared. Not scared, I was nervous, I thought-”

  
“What did you think, Malfoy?” He asked, keeping his back to the Slytherin boy. Looking at him hurt. It hurt Harry’s chest.

  
“I thought you had drowned. Or something, I was- I was worried, alright?”

  
Reluctantly, Harry turned his head to look at Draco over his shoulder. He wasn’t used to seeing him looking like he did then - genuinely worried. Concerned. Harry was very confused. He would never understand what went on in the head of Draco Malfoy of course but… he wanted to know so badly what Draco wanted from him. Because if he really did care then… then why did he go so out of his way to upset Harry all the time? Why were they even enemies? Harry hadn’t wanted that. When he told Draco he didn’t want to be friends he didn’t mean he wanted this either.

  
But they would never not be enemies. Draco would continue to play on his emotions. He didn’t care about Harry, no. If he cared then he would act like it. He wouldn’t bully him and his friends. He wouldn’t only act nice and normal when the pair of them were alone. That couldn’t ever be any sort of relationship or friendship.

  
“No, not alright.” Harry said. “You have no reason to be worrying about me, Malfoy.”

  
And then, he left. Left to be alone and wallow in self pity, jealousy, and hatred.

  
*********

  
“You wanted to see me, professor?”

  
It was probably the first time all year Harry had been alone with the headmaster since his name got pulled out of the goblet of fire, and he was slightly confused. He had been confused since then note arrived in class, and now he felt immensely awkward standing in his doorway.

  
“Ah, yes, Harry!” Dumbledore welcomed him with a beckoning hand and a smile. “Come, come!”

  
Harry moved towards the desk with caution. “Is everything alright, sir? Is… is Sirius alright?”

  
Still not giving anything away, Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled a little. “Your godfather is fine, you've probably heard from him more than I have.”

  
Hovering still, Harry moved with an uncomfortable shuffle to sit down in the chair opposite his headmaster.

  
“How're you finding your time at school, my boy?” He asked, a small smile on his face. “How did you find the task last week?”

  
Harry felt that the air was stiff and awkward, he shifted nervously in his chair. The blue eyed gaze pinned him down and he felt an unwelcome question was coming his way. “I… I think it was okay. But I couldn't have done it without- never mind.”

  
He felt his cheeks heat up - he couldn't go round telling people who had helped him. Imagine if he got Neville in trouble for stealing some gillyweed for him!

  
“Harry.” Dumbledore said, looking slightly amused. “Do you think any of the other Triwizard champions get through any task entirely alone? Once again, you depend rather a lot on your independence.”

  
Harry glanced down at the desk, feeling a bit intimidated. Dumbledore always had that impression on him, only now it seemed much more nerve wracking. He could sense something was… off.

  
“Harry, forgive me if I'm prying much too far, but… well.” He was being very careful with his wording. “It was my job to collect your thing you'd miss the most, and I quite clearly chose Mr Weasley.”

  
Looking back up, he frowned a little, trying to work out where it was going.

  
“Harry… being in the position that I am at Hogwarts - I know things. I know things only the walls should know.”

  
Oh merlin.

  
Feeling his stomach lurch, Harry wondered how on earth he was going to feign any sort of innocence or obliviousness.

  
“I choose to stay quiet. But - Harry, my boy.”

  
“Professor?” Harry asked, clearing his throat when he realised his words were coming out cracked.

  
“I pride myself on being able to know you as you grow up. It is… an honour, Harry, to be able to say I took any small part in raising such a boy.”

  
Harry’s brow was growing increasingly creased, his face now a completely scorching scarlet. This was not good. It was obvious Dumbledore somehow knew about the moments he had shared with Draco Malfoy. He had brought him here to shame him! It was a pleasure to raise such a boy but how Harry was turning out to be a huge disappointment, doing all sorts of despicable, shameful things!

  
“Harry… there's just one thing I want to say to you.”

  
Bracing himself, Harry tried to keep his gaze emotionless, not wanting to give anything away, anything at all.

  
“I hope you get to follow your heart.”

  
What!? Harry gasped to himself in his head, certain he couldn't be hearing this right.

  
“I know there could be someone you fear losing almost as much as you fear losing Ron Weasley, if not as much. I… I didn't want to choose him because I knew that would not be enjoyable for you. I'm not trying to tell you what to feel, Harry.” He paused for a while, thoughtful before continuing. “If I have learnt anything throughout my long long life, it's that you should never have to deny yourself love.”

  
The trip to have a chat with his headteacher had started to take a very strange turn. Harry was shaking inside, it felt like his actual heart was trembling. He finally met Dumbledore’s gaze. His ice blue but kind, well meaning gaze. Follow your heart.

  
“Never be ashamed for the feelings you hold so dearly, Harry. Off you go.”

  
“Er… alright.” Harry murmured, getting to his feet and finding that his legs were completely jelly. “Thanks, sir.”

  
He turned and left the room without another word being spoken, the only ones left swimming around in his head the wise ones of Albus Dumbledore.

  
Never be ashamed of your feelings.  
Never deny yourself love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this chapter is alright, I had to edit it in my phone so I'll be going through again tomorrow doing a final check for mistakes.
> 
> I wonder if Harry will take any notice of Dumbledore's input...


	5. i know what you really want

 

Time was whooshing away as the year went on, classes took up a considerable amount of Harry’s time, as did worrying about other things of course, he was still no closer to working out who on earth would have put his name in the Goblet of Fire. The air was cold but the sun was shining, so he and Hermione had wrapped up warm and taken their books to sit by the lake. They weren’t doing too much studying though. It seemed as if they never got any time alone lately, and they were taking this moment to talk. 

 

“What’s been bothering you, Harry?” she asked, glancing over at her best friend. “I can tell it’s not just the Triwizard Tournament, I know you.”

 

Harry was taken aback. He wasn’t really sure how he was meant to respond because of course Hermione knew him. He couldn’t lie. And… and he could trust her. But then all he had to do was think about how horrible Malfoy and his cronies had treated Hermione and Ron in the past and feel despicable. They were the worst to Hermione - they called her  _ mudblood _ . How could he possibly tell her the past couple of months had been consumed by some soul destroying crush on Draco Malfoy?  Yes,  _ consumed _ . He had barely even spoken to Draco since they last kissed, other than the interaction in the classroom on the night of the party, they hadn’t spoken alone. Draco hadn’t openly teased Harry quite so much though, it was as if Slytherin had gotten bored of The Chosen One. 

 

No, he couldn’t tell her that. He couldn’t tell her it was  _ Draco _ . 

 

Dumbledore's words suddenly started ringing round his brain. The only person who knew, and he had told Harry to never be ashamed. His words held some kind of comfort of course, but… what did he know? He didn't understand the way his friends completely despised Malfoy. Did he not even realise what  _ vermin _ Draco was? Evidently not. But how did Harry think he could keep the feelings he was having secret from his best friend, when  _ Dumbledore  _ knew? Truthfully he didn’t really get why Dumbledore cared, he was a busy man, what with all of the arrangements he was having to make for the Triwizard tournament alone; how did he have the time to be worrying about Harry and his feelings for some stupid  _ boy?!  _ But then he considered it, and he did feel a sense of relief. Even if Sirius was far away and distant from Harry, he did seem to have somebody there if he needed them. The greatest wizard in the world, at that. 

 

He knew he should be grateful really, he should be please that somebody would notice how he was feeling, somebody genuinely did care about him. But knowing that the headteacher knew about it just made him feel anxious and slightly queasy. 

 

“How do you deal with having a crush on someone who you really shouldn’t?” He asked Hermione, after thinking carefully around his wording.

 

She looked surprised, eyebrows raised. She nudged him, “I’m assuming you’re talking about Cho?”

 

Definitely not Cho. He had completely forgotten her, actually, she barely ever crossed his mind. But she was a good beard. He didn’t say yes, but he didn’t say no either, just gave Hermione a defeated look. 

 

“I know it’s tough. Believe me, Harry, I know what it’s like.” Hermione said, and she looked suddenly very down for a second. It never really crossed Harry’s mind that Hermione would get feelings like that. She was just so different to other girls that he didn’t expect it. “But you know, it’s just a  _ crush _ .”

 

She moved closer to him, putting an arm around him. He hugged her back, staring out over the lake. 

 

“A crush is just a fleeting feeling, and it may even hurt you for a while. I think it’s probably called a crush because that’s just what it does.” She laughed, soft. “Crushes you. But you know you deserve someone better. You deserve somebody who wants you as much as you do them. You deserve somebody who realises just how amazing you are.” 

 

Harry thought that over. Would anyone ever return the feelings he had? Would anyone ever truly want him as he wanted them? Draco definitely didn’t. If he felt the same way Harry did, wouldn’t he have made some kind of effort? Not that Harry had made any effort. 

 

“It’s not fleeting though.” Harry complained, “It’s been months now.”

 

Hermione laughed again. “Yeah, mine’s been for quite a while now, too. But I’m optimistic that soon I’ll meet someone else and the feelings for him will just…  _ stop _ .” 

 

Confused, Harry thought. Who was Hermione talking about? Definitely not Viktor, Viktor definitely wanted her more than she would ever want him. He had some kind of idea but… no. Surely not. The idea of Ron and Hermione frequently came into his mind but he usually brushed it out. It just didn’t seem probable when he considered all of their bickering, how different they were to each other. But nobody could deny how they cared about each other, as well. Still, he decided it best not to ask. He wasn’t telling Hermione the whole truth, was he? He couldn’t expect her to. 

 

She definitely had the right idea about liking somebody crushing you. Harry thought it was soul destroying. 

  
  


**********

  
  


“Hey, Potter, you got yourself another fan article!”

 

Harry looked up from his breakfast in utter shock - Draco was addressing him in a room full of people. He was  _ teasing _ him. After everything… he had suddenly just gone back to doing what he did best. Humiliating Harry. Beside him, Ron and Hermione glared, balling up their fists. 

 

“Look, let’s see what it says shall we?” Draco chortled, clearly loving the audience he was starting to gather. He opened the page, and read to himself for a moment. “Ah, here we go. ‘Harry Potter,’” he began, “ _ ‘Maybe not, but to most the victories Harry Potter has managed to achieve throughout this competition are somewhat a surprise. When you consider the great talent he is up against, it really does puzzle one - how is he doing quite so well, at such a disadvantage?”  _ He took a long dramatic pause, taking the moment to look up at Harry. 

 

He met his gaze through the crowd of people. And he winked. He  _ winked _ . And smirked. Harry felt his insides twisting, it felt like they would come right up any minute. He had never felt so humiliated before. He had been in many humiliating situations of course but now… now he was hurt too. And he didn’t even have any reason to be. 

 

“ _ These wins are starting to make me question - is the Triwizard Tournament fair? Or is it the complete opposite… Dumbledore’s favourite Chosen One is always the winner it seems. The competition is just a prime example of discriminative treatment. His fellow champions are not famous across the globe, so they’re less likely to win. Go figure.” _

 

Harry was barely even listening to the words and he was seething. He rose to his feet, unable to help himself. Moving closer to Draco, flanked by Ron and Hermione, he was trying really hard to keep his temper contained. It was proving to be difficult. 

 

“You know, Rita Skeeter has a point.” Draco was saying, still chuckling away as he addressed his audience. “We all know Potter is a complete idiot when it comes to magic. But wait, there’s more!”

 

He was acting like a newsman, commentating Harry’s life, and it was driving him crazy. Why was Draco always  _ there _ , always pulling the strings? He could have punched him there and then, but he was  curious to hear the rest. Hermione evidently was too, she put a hand on his shoulder to stop him marching forwards. 

 

“ _ It’s no secret that Potter has been spending a lot of time with our favourite muggleborn, Hermione Granger. Could it be that they have a secret romance brewing, despite the hold she has over Viktor Krum? Could it be that she is playing not just one Quidditch star, but two?”’  _ Draco finished, waving the paper in the air with a flourish. “I don’t know how such a brute is doing it!” 

 

His gaze found Hermione’s, “You’re pulling Potter are you, mudblood?” 

 

That was it, Harry wouldn’t take anymore. He heard Hermione and Ron both gasp, and Ron started to speak furiously, but he was silenced as chants for a fight started. Harry was on Draco in seconds, pulling out his wand from his robes and pinning it to Draco’s neck. He didn’t even care that there were teachers watching and he would get detention, but Draco was doing this just to hurt him and Harry wouldn’t have it. He was shaking with rage, towering himself over Draco. But Draco didn’t even flinch. 

 

Looking Harry dead in the eye, he just continued to smirk. “You don’t want to hurt me, Potter.” He whispered, so quiet that even Crabbe and Goyle didn’t hear from his side, it was too loud surrounding them. “You and I both know just what you want.” 

 

Feeling his cheeks start to burn up, Harry knew he was just as scarlet as Ron’s fiery hair. How dare he mention anything about that, at this moment? He was about to fire a spell wildly, but Ron was tugging at his shoulder. 

 

“Harry, stop, McGonagall-”

 

“Potter. Malfoy.” Her furious voice echoed around the room, silencing the students. She had shoved her way through the throng and now stood at the Slytherin table, fixing them with a beady, menacing glare. 

 

With one last look from Draco to the Gryffindor head, Harry opened and closed his mouth like a goldfish before sighing the angriest sigh he could. Stuffing his wand away, he turned and stalked off past the students and out of the great hall. He heard McGonagall shouting after him that he’d lost 20 points for Gryffindor and had a detention. He didn’t care. He just had to get out of there before anyone saw him cry. 

 

He wasn’t crying because he was sad, he tried to convince himself. It was just tears of frustration!

 

But he couldn’t deny the misery he felt, that he had started to care so much about somebody who would toy with his emotions and hurt him just for fun. How could he crave so badly the taste of such a toxic poison? How could he  _ follow his heart  _ when his heart wanted to lead him down the darkest, most dangerous path? No, Dumbledore meant well, of course he did, but Harry couldn't do as he said.

 

He had to shove the feelings aside! It was the right thing to do. Nobody else knew of them, he didn't have to face the feelings at all. He just had to hope Dumbledore could do the same… if he mentioned them to anybody else, Harry would be screwed.

 

********

 

Harry woke up in a pool of sweat, he had been thrashing around in his bed for a while before that. 

 

“You alright mate?” Ron was sat up in his own bed, fixing Harry with a very concerned gaze.

 

“Oh, yeah.” he replied breathily, panting as if he had been running. “I… I just had a bad dream. Dragons.” 

 

It was a big fat lie, there had been do dragon in his dream but he needed some kind of excuse. Lying back down, he turned to face the opposite wall, hoping Ron believed he was just going straight back to sleep. He really didn't want to think about the real nightmare he had just been having.

 

He had been alone in a big empty room, but then he saw Draco Malfoy standing on the opposite side. He had felt a sense of hope, and started to smile, but then realised he was being chased. He started to run towards Draco, hoping he would protect him but… when he turned to see who exactly was chasing him, he stopped, frozen. It was a second Draco, menacing and evil. He was laughing at Harry, an evil chuckle. The first Draco came to help Harry but his touch seemed to burn, and the other Draco continued to cackle. He didn't know which one to trust. He didn't think he could possibly trust either one. That face was all too familiar, that evil smirking face.

 

“ _ Follow your heart, Harry!”  _ Dumbledore’s voice seemed to fill the room, repeating the same words and the voice had been growing louder and louder… “ _ Follow your heart!”  _

 

No. Harry did not want to face that dream anymore. Maybe it wasn't a nightmare about dragons but it was definitely a whole lot worse. He couldn't sleep a wink more for the whole night, his heart was hammering far too hard against his chest; making his whole body and soul ache. He couldn't work out what any of it meant. 

 

He just knew he couldn't go on living with this crush. He couldn't not see Draco. He couldn't not acknowledge the feelings that were constantly worrying at his mind. That would end up crushing him alive, it would drive him crazy.

 

No. He would talk to Draco first thing the following morning, and they would get any unspoken feelings off their minds, and they would end the nonsense and go back to normal. It didn't make any sense and Harry knew it, he would never be truly happy if he wasn't able to make out with the other boy at any given chance. He was just desperately clutching at straws, desperate for some kind of solution.

Anything,  _ anything _ , to stop this self hatred that was eating him alive. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!   
> I have a feeling the next chapter will be one you quite enjoy... :)


	6. sealed with a kiss

The next morning, Harry entered the great hall for breakfast with a sense of determination despite his exhaustion after having got no sleep whatsoever after the dreaded nightmare. He had resolved to talk to Draco about everything, and he would. He would no longer shy away from the feelings that had been plaguing him for months now, he would confront them with the Gryffindor bravery he was supposed to possess. Not that he had any idea whatsoever what he was actually going to say - in hindsight, he hadn’t thought very far ahead yet. But he was still determined. 

 

“Good morning,” Hermione said to the boys when they sat down, only Ron replied though. She followed Harry’s beady eyed gaze - he had it fixed on the Slytherin table. “Er - are you alright, Harry?”

 

He jumped, he hadn’t really acknowledged the fact that there was anyone else around him, he was just focused on looking for Malfoy. “I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?” he asked with a very forced air of happiness, fixing a smile on his face. 

 

Ron raised his eyebrows, “Something interesting going on at the Slytherin table?”

 

“No!” Harry retorted, suddenly very defensive. “I just… I’m just wondering where Malfoy is, that’s all.”

 

“Harry, please don’t start anything!” Hermione started to say in a weary tone, buttering a slice of toast with a lot more vigour than necessary. 

 

He glared, knowing he had no right to be in a bad mood with her but still managing to be. “Why do you always assume I’m going to  _ start  _ something?”

 

“Why else would you be bothering to waste your time thinking about Draco?”

 

He decided to ignore her before he gave anything else away. As he started to dish some bacon and beans onto his plate, he tried to ignore the fact that he was already growing more and more nervous at the prospect of approaching Draco. His stomach started to gnaw at itself and he was beginning to lose his appetite greatly. 

 

“You alright, mate?” Ron asked from where he sat opposite Harry, “You look a bit… off.”

 

“I’m  _ fine _ .” Harry snapped. 

 

He knew he had no reason whatsoever to take his bad mood out on his best friends, but he couldn’t help it. Everything was stressing him out lately, and he was just so  _ defensive _ . Anytime somebody spoke to him he let paranoia get the better of him and started to believe that they knew how he was feeling regarding Draco Malfoy. That boy really did seem to be a curse. 

 

At last, Draco sloped into the great hall a lot later than usual, walking with an infuriating arrogance. He was flanked by Crabbe and Goyle which really did nothing to calm Harry’s nerves. He was taking so long to eat that Hermione gave up waiting, saying she had to get to the library. 

 

“It’s a Saturday!” Ron protested. 

 

She didn’t say anything, just dashed off. Harry heard Ron sigh heavily, staring after her as she left. There was something going on between them, something tense filled the air whenever Ron and Hermione were together. Harry wanted to know, but he didn’t really want to ask. If he got into any discussion over things like  _ that  _ the questions could start rebounding. 

 

This whole situation was awful. He could barely talk to his best friends anymore for fear that they would work out he didn’t have a crush on Cho Chang at all, but rather on the  _ enemy _ . Once he had finally managed to force some food down, Harry got to his feet. 

 

“Where are you going?” Ron asked, puzzled. 

 

“I want a word with Malfoy.” He muttered, feeling for his wand in his robes. 

 

Eagerly, his redheaded friend started to get up too, but Harry shook his head in a rush. “No no, this is- this is private.” He tried to ignore the slightly wounded look that got him from Ron, he felt bad, the pair of them never kept secrets from one another. 

 

“Look, I’ll tell you later.” He lied, making a mental note to think of some sort of excuse, “I just want to talk to Malfoy alone.”

 

“But-”

 

“I’ll see you back in the common room.” He insisted, and he left the Gryffindor table without another word. 

 

Approaching the table on the complete opposite side of the great hall took time, especially when he was walking at such a nervous, slow crawl. He could see the back of Draco’s pale blond head and it was starting to make him panic. What on earth was he doing? He hadn’t thought this through at all. Who planned on  _ talking  _ to someone and didn’t even plan what they would  _ say _ !? 

 

It was too late to turn around now, though, Crabbe and Goyle had spotted him and pointed. Turning to look over his shoulder, Draco met Harry’s eye very briefly, and then rolled his own, looking exasperated. He didn’t get up, he just turned back to his breakfast. Harry was well aware of everyone looking over now, probably hoping for another fight. Now that McGonagall wasn’t in the room, maybe he was going to get his own back after the humiliation. No, he was much too nervous for that. The thought of picking a fight with Malfoy was just daunting. 

 

“Malfoy.” He said in a quiet voice when he finally reached the other boy, standing behind him. “ _ Draco _ .”

 

With obvious irritation, Draco turned to face Harry again. “What do you want, Potter?” He sneered, but his voice quivered a little. Maybe he thought Harry was about to just kiss him there and then. Or curse him. Either or. 

 

“I want a word.” Harry replied, voice low, well aware that it was completely quiet around them now, people craning in closer to hear. 

 

There was a chorus of  _ ooooh _ s and then Crabbe and Goyle tried (and failed) to start a chant of  _ fight fight fight _ !

 

“Shut up, you blithering idiots.” Draco snapped. He got to his feet quickly, obviously scared of anything Harry could say to humiliate him as revenge. “Alright, let’s go, Potter.” 

 

Harry glared at him, hating how Malfoy always somehow ended up being the one making orders, even if Harry was the one to initiate the conversation. To prove he was the one in charge, he turned around and marched out of the room with great speed, leading the way out and doing his best to ignore everyone watching. This was a stupid idea, he told himself, he should have just waited to get Draco alone. He wondered if people would guess what they were doing, he wondered if people would assume they were just going off to snog. No. 

 

No, definitely not. That was the definition of impossible for everyone else at Hogwarts. Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter engaging in anything other than arguing or fighting? Yeah right. 

 

“Make this quick, Potter.” Draco hissed when they had walked through many corridors and settled in a tiny broom closet. He clearly wasn’t fond of the location, he wrinkled up his nose. “Why are we in here?”

 

“Shut up.” Harry said, “I just needed to talk to you,  _ alone _ .2

 

“And like I said, make it quick.” The other boy replied, sounding incredibly bored.

 

Harry had no idea what he wanted to say. No idea. He felt so  _ dumb _ , just stood there gawking like an idiot and admiring Draco without even meaning to. He had never noticed how defined the other boy’s jawline was…. 

 

“ _ Potter-” _ Draco started to speak again, angry. 

 

“Alright, alright,” Harry cut him off with a heavy sigh. “I just…. I just wanted to say that-” he hesitated, trying to think of some kind of script he should have planned out in his head last night, but he was too nervous. Being alone with Draco made him feel like he came from a different planet, everything felt alien to him. He didn’t know how to act, it’s like he forgot how to breathe. 

 

“Haven’t got all day, Potter….” Draco sighed, sounding more and more frustrated by the minute. But he also seemed nervous. Harry noticed that his voice shook a little, and he avoiding Harry’s eyes completely. Almost like being alone with Harry had the same effect. 

 

“I just want to tell you that-” Harry started. “I think you- I think that we-” 

 

“Spit it out, will you?”

 

“I just want you to stop being such a horrible prick to me, alright?” Harry said in a rush. Draco looked very shocked. “You can’t- you can’t just kiss me twice and then carry on treating me like goblin piss!”

 

Draco snorted. He smirked. He met Harry’s gaze at last, but his eyes were cold. “What, Potter? You brought me into a stuffy little broom cupboard to ask me to stop being nasty to you? What, did I make you cry?”

 

“Stop it!” Harry raised his voice, losing his temper. “You know what I mean, Draco! I- You’re humiliating me! Bullying me in front of everyone after, after-”

 

“What did you expect to happen, Potter?” Draco purred, a dangerous, low pur. “We kiss twice and suddenly we’re the best of friends? Snogging at any given chance?”

 

“I just didn’t think you would carry on being so  _ horrible  _ to me! I thought…”

 

“You thought I  _ cared  _ about you?” Draco asked, the words so menacing and cruel it felt like blades digging into Harry’s skin. He laughed harshly. “We agreed to let the kisses be forgotten and for us to just return to normal! Well, yesterday was  _ normal _ .”

 

Harry stared at him, gobsmacked. He didn’t know why he expected anything different, of course. Obviously the kisses had meant nothing to Draco, they were purely just some kind of weird experiment.  _ Obviously  _ they wouldn’t stop him from despising Harry. But… well. It hurt Harry. He was hurting so much, he was hung up over this cruel, nasty  _ bully _ . It scared him. 

 

“You’re my enemy, Potter. Always have been, always will be.” Draco said, but his voice shook again. And Harry caught it. 

 

He took a step closer, not that there was even that much room to move around in the tiny little square of a cupboard. “That’s not what you want.” He said, voice low. He was growing more confident now, he was starting to feel slightly more sure of himself. “It’s not what either of us want.”

“What in the name of Merlin are you talking about?” Draco snapped, backing into the stony wall. 

 

“You’re always the one that starts it, Draco.” Harry said, voice soft. Whenever he called Draco by his first name it felt foreign to his lips, it felt forbidden. It felt perfect for the secret moments they shared. “The two times we kissed, you were the one to make the first move.”

 

He felt a surge of satisfaction as Malfoy’s cheeks suddenly flushed bright red. He knew it was true. They both did. He continued to move closer, he could feel Draco’s breath. 

 

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Draco said, voice a timid whisper. “You’re- you’re being-”

 

“You know full well I know.” Harry retorted, voice growing more and more gentle, and all the more teasing. “You know that you wanted to kiss me. You were dying for it, both times-”

 

“Shut up!” Draco snapped, shoving Harry lightly away from him. Light but furious, his face had never looked more twisted with rage. “Shut up! Shut up shut up shut up! You’re just twisting everything-”

 

“Draco, you kissed me.” Harry told him, plain and simple. 

 

Suddenly Draco had his wand out, a similar turn of events to the previous day only the roles were reversed. He had it pointed at Harry, he was backing the Gryffindor boy into the door of the broom cupboard, he was seething. 

 

“Go on then.” Harry said. “Hex me. Nobody’s here to stop you.” 

 

He was daring Draco, egging him on. He stood tall, not allowing himself to be afraid of the other boy anymore. He squared his shoulders, looking Draco dead in the eyes. “Do it.”

 

Regarding his wand with fire burning in his grey eyes, Draco was considering it. It looked as if he was thinking, thinking of what hex he should use. The possibilities were endless. Harry started to think maybe he actually would do it as well - of course he didn’t let it show, but he started to grow slightly more nervous. He waited for a spell to hit him. He was breathing heavily, the sound of their breaths the only thing that filled the air. Time seemed to be frozen in one tense second, a second that seemed to last an entire lifetime. 

 

And then once more, they were kissing. Harry heard a clatter as Draco dropped his wand to the floor and lifted both his hands to cup Harry’s face. Harry lifted one hand to rest on Draco’s waist, the other moved higher, resting on his chest through his robes. Draco felt hard underneath them, he had a good physique. 

 

Just like the other two times, the kiss seemed to last forever but also like no time at all. They just got so ravenous for each other whenever they got the tiniest taste. This isn’t what Harry had been expecting, but he wasn’t about to complain about the outcome. He moaned a little into Draco’s mouth, feeling weakened by his touch. Moving his lips from Harry’s lips, he smiled a little as Harry made a noise of protest, but Harry didn’t see that. He just felt as Draco’s mouth began to tease the skin of his neck, his sweet spot. It made Harry go weak at the knees as he felt Draco start to suckle on a bit of skin usually hidden by a collar, he had roughly unbuttoned Harry’s shirt. 

 

“Wait,” Harry said, breathless, chin tilted into the air. “Draco, I wanted to-  _ oh _ …”

 

Draco’s hand had moved down, down to Harry’s trousers. He struggled with the belt for a moment, and for a second Harry considered letting him. But then his conscience started nagging him, reminding him that he had wanted to talk, not just make out some more and then go back to suffering in silence. 

 

“Wait, wait.” He said again, and Draco reluctantly moved away. He lifted a hand to touch his lips, looking up at Harry with wide eyes. 

 

“I-” he said, shocked. Then he went to pick up his wand and Harry panicked, his hands flew to grab Draco and stop him from leaving. 

 

“No, no. Don’t leave.” He said, “Please don’t leave.”

 

“We said we wouldn’t and couldn’t do this.” Draco said in a low voice. He now sounded a lot less bored and arrogant and more small. He looked scared. “Potter, I-”

 

“Draco.” Harry stopped him, speaking in the calmest manner he could manage. “Draco, we can’t carry on like this.”

 

“Like what?”

 

“Ignoring our feelings for each other.”

 

He hadn’t really thought it possible, but this short interaction had confirmed Harry’s suspicions. He wasn’t the only one having these sorts of feelings, he wasn’t the only one who could never wait to kiss Draco, who craved it. He just wasn’t quite as scared. That seemed impossible, seeing as this terrified Harry, but… he wasn’t the one with death eaters for parents. He wondered how they would react if they knew Draco liked  _ boys _ , yet alone liked Harry Potter. It suddenly made a bit more sense. 

 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

 

“It’s why you hated that article yesterday, isn’t it?” Harry whispered. “You didn’t like that they said I’m with Hermione.”

 

“Stop telling me how I feel, I don’t-”

 

Harry moved close again. He hesitated, lifting a hand, and Draco didn’t flinch away. Taking this as permission, Harry gently placed a hand to Draco’s cheek, stroking a finger across the pale skin there. 

 

“Draco, I can’t stand not- not kissing you. I can’t stand seeing you and knowing what we both want, and not being able to have it.” He thought about the many times he had fantasised of kissing Draco, of doing much more than kissing. It was countless. 

 

_ Follow your heart,  _ Dumbledore’s words continued to sing song through his mind. Of course, it would have to be a secret. He couldn’t stand the idea of anyone finding out. But he also couldn’t stand the idea of being nothing but enemies with Draco Malfoy. He couldn’t stand the idea of denying himself the thing he wanted most in this world. 

 

“Tell me you feel the same.” Harry said,  _ pleaded.  _ “Tell me that you want me too.”

 

“It doesn’t matter what I want, I can’t have it.” Draco mumbled, staring at the floor now, but leaning in to Harry’s comforting touch. 

 

“Why? Because your parents would disapprove? Because you’re a Slytherin and I’m a Gryffindor?” Harry asked, almost laughing at how stupid that was. Even if it was  _ true _ , it was still stupid that something as small as their school houses would determine their relationship with one another. “Who says they have to know?”

 

Draco looked up, interested, confused. 

 

It wasn’t exactly what Harry wanted, no. He wanted to be able to hold Draco, he wanted to be able to walk around with their fingers laced, he wanted to kiss him good morning. He hadn’t realised how much he wanted it until that moment. But… but if he couldn’t have that, it didn’t mean they could never be together. If what they both feared was what other people would think, did they really need to involve other people? 

 

“I can’t have anyone find out that… that I’m gay.” Draco whispered. He sounded so lost, and Harry wanted to wrap his arms around him. But he already knew that wouldn’t be what kind of relationship Draco wanted. Theirs would be strained, it would be awkward. It would be a secret that nobody could  _ ever  _ discover. 

 

“They won’t.” Harry said. “I promise.”

 

Draco stared at him. He looked unsettled and unsure. He definitely wasn’t going to be smiling at Harry anytime soon. But he leaned forward, and he kissed Harry. A tiny, soft kiss on his jawline. Something about that made it seem a lot more personal, a lot more caring. Then he traced the lovebite he had left on Harry’s neck with his finger. He looked at it for a moment too long before finally looking back into Harry’s gaze. 

 

“No one can know.” he whispered.

  
He turned and left the room without another word. 


	7. let's forget who we are

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter features some smut! it's not really that graphic, but just to warn you :)

It was two weeks until Draco and Harry saw each other alone again. Those two weeks were absolute torture. Everytime he saw Draco, Harry felt almost  _ pained  _ by the overwhelming wave of desire that washed over him. It seemed as if Draco was flirting without even having to say a word, even the way he  _ walked  _ was like him flaunting everything for the Gryffindor boy.  _ Look what you could be getting _ he said as he met Harry’s gaze and smirked. A sneering, arrogant,  _ annoying _ smirk. 

 

If anything, agreeing not to ignore their feelings but still having to keep them a complete secret just made the two boys hate each other more. They were constantly making snide comments, and constantly getting caught for it. 

 

Draco was getting scolded by McGonagall for not doing his homework and revising the transfiguration spell, and Harry snorted under his breath. “Too busy tending to his wand in other ways, I reckon.” 

 

Ron laughed, but unfortunately the professor heard. Turning to look at Harry, she gave him the deadliest glower she could. “Very mature, Potter. I would have expected better from a Hogwarts champion.” 

 

Feeling his cheeks flame up, Harry looked over to Draco. Draco looked thoroughly pissed off. And pissed off he was, evidently, as soon as McGonagall turned her back he whipped out his wand to hex Harry immediately. Of course, Harry noticed instantly, he was always watching Malfoy to see what his next move would be. He leaped out of the way before the hex could reach him - and it hit Hermione instead. She let out a wail of despair, her skin had exploded in a cluster of spots, massive and red all over her face. Without even waiting for McGonagall to permit her to, she jumped to her feet and fled from the room with her hands over her face, shielding it from the view of the cackling Slytherin’s. 

 

“Oi!” Ron yelled, getting to his feet and pulling out his own wand, pointing it at Malfoy. 

 

Harry did the same, best friends both turning round to hex Draco Malfoy. They would have as well, if McGonagall hadn’t stepped in between the two of them, blocking any kind of access. 

 

“Detention! All three of you! Disrupting the class,  _ hexing  _ another student! I’m disgusted with the behaviour of all of you!” She turned to fix Harry with her beady eyed stare and lowered her voice. “Especially you, Potter. I know you and Mr Malfoy aren’t exactly the best of friends but you’re never the one to start it!”

 

Over her shoulder, Harry met Draco’s stare. He was smiling the most evil smile he could muster, and it made Harry’s skin crawl. He also thought to himself how the one way to settle all this tension would be to have sex with Malfoy there and then, but he felt that would probably not be smart. 

 

“Sorry, professor.” He muttered, Ron copied, and they both sunk down into their seats. 

“Slimy git.” Ron said under his breath, glowering at Malfoy. “He’ll pay for doing that to Hermione.”

 

“Thank you, Mr Weasley.” McGonagall hissed. 

 

After the lesson had ended, to Harry’s great despair, McGonagall told him that she wanted a word. He told Ron he would see him at lunch, remaining in his seat as his classmates filed out past him. As Draco walked past he slipped a piece of parchment onto Harry’s desk discreetly. Glancing after the other boy, Harry watched him go with longing, before picking up the parchment and stuffing it into his pocket. He didn’t want to risk reading it in front of the transfiguration teacher. 

 

“Potter,” McGonagall started, pulling him out of a trance he hadn’t realised he had fallen into. “I know things are tough right now, what with being in the Triwizard Tournament and- and having no idea how you managed to be in it. But that is no excuse for picking fights with people whenever you feel like it!”

 

“I wasn’t picking a fight!” Harry protested through gritted teeth, thinking that it was very unfair for him to be having this chat when Malfoy started things nine out of ten times. “I was-”

 

“ _ Thank you _ , Mr Potter.” She said sternly, cutting him off. “Let me ask you, is there any  _ reason _ you suddenly seem so interested in Draco?”

 

Harry’s heart immediately started to race. Had Dumbledore told her? She knew something was going on! What else could she mean, being  _ interested _ ? Harry felt suddenly very defensive, and ill at ease. Trying to ignore the way his breaths were starting to race, he shook his head. “No. No reason whatsoever, Professor.”

 

“Alright then.” She said, clearly not believing him, she stared at him with pursed lips and eyes full of disbelief. “Perhaps consider keeping the outbursts quiet in the future.”

 

“Yes, Professor.” He said, getting to his feet shakily. “Sorry, Professor.”

 

He left the classroom with great speed. This was beginning to get weird, why did she even feel the need to mention it? Couldn’t she have just let it go? Obviously she was trying to get him to confess to betraying Gryffindor by becoming infatuated with one of the enemy. 

 

Thankfully the hallways were completely empty, Harry could finally pull out the parchment that seemed to have been burning a hole in his pocket to read it. 

 

_ Whomping Willow, 10pm. Come alone. _

 

Harry read Draco’s sloping script with butterflies fluttering in his stomach. They would finally be alone together again. He wondered what this could mean, what were they going to do? He felt a strange rush of excitement. He had been waiting for this for what felt like forever! Something  _ planned _ . The excitement was instantly replaced by nerves as a gaggle of third year girls came giggling past, he shoved the parchment roughly back into his pocket. He walked to the Great Hall slowly, thinking over the message. The whomping willow… what a strange place to meet. He wondered if Draco knew about the passage to the Shrieking Shack. He remembered meeting Sirius there last year… Sirius. 

 

He hated to think about what Sirius would think about him and Draco. It was a thought that had been swimming through his thoughts constantly, no matter how hard he tried to ignore that nagging thought it was just constantly  _ there _ . When he reached the table and sat down beside Ron, he felt slightly dazed. 

 

“What did McGonagall want then?” Ron asked. 

 

“Nothing.” Harry sad, guard coming back up. “Just- just telling me off.”  

 

He ignored Ron’s interest, helping himself to lamb chops and instead asking if he thought Hermione was okay. He was barely even listening to the answer though - all he could think of was meeting Draco. 

 

************

 

It was almost impossible for Harry to leave the common room at quarter to ten, hoping to get down to the Whomping Willow quickly. He went upstairs to get his cloak, and was instantly cornered by Ron. Ron fixed him with a very interested look, looking from Harry, to the cloak, and back to Harry... 

 

“Where are you going?” He asked. 

 

Harry’s mind whirred with all the possible excuses. Going to see Hagrid, having to talk to Dumbledore about the tournament, having to send a letter to Sirius… his mind worked but his mouth didn’t. It seemed as if any ability to speak had been snatched from him and he stood opening and closing his mouth like a goldfish. The longer it took, the more intrigued Ron got. 

 

“Harry?” He asked, “Why are you trying to sneak off?” 

 

“I- I uh, I’m not-” Harry stuttered, suddenly terrified that he had been caught in the act. Ron would know everything, he would know he had kissed Draco multiple times, and  _ liked it _ . He would know he liked  _ Draco Malfoy _ . This was a complete disaster! Everything was going wrong. 

 

“Is it something to do with the task?” Ron continued to wonder, seemingly getting irritated by Harry’s silence. And rightly so, he felt awful for lying to Ron, his absolute best friend in the world. 

 

They hadn’t talked for over a month because Ron had believed Harry was keeping secrets, and now this was going on. He felt terrible. Even so, he couldn’t bring himself to tell the truth. He looked down at the cloak in his hands. 

 

“I…” he tried to connect his words to his brain. “Hagrid.”

 

“Hagrid?” Ron questioned, raising his eyebrows. “What does Hagrid want at 10pm?” 

 

“He doesn’t want anything!” Harry said, shaking his head. He wasn’t doing very well at this secret thing. “I just want to go and talk to him about something.”

 

“Talk about what?” 

 

“It’s, um… he showed me the dragons for the first task. And I think maybe somebody found out he showed me and he could be in trouble. I just need to warn him to be very careful with what he says.” 

 

That seemed good enough for Ron. Any signs of curiosity fell from his face immediately and he crossed the dorm and picked up a jumper. “Okay, want me to come?”

 

“No.” Harry spoke much too fast. “I don’t think we both even fit under the cloak anymore and I just want to be quick, really, you’re not missing anything. Do you mind?”

 

“No…” Ron said, he was talking incredibly slow in contrast to Harry. “I don’t mind. Okay. See you later then.”

 

Harry muttered a quick goodbye and sped from the room, hoping the delay didn’t make him late to meet Draco. Of course he wouldn’t say anything about it to Draco himself, but he was  _ excited _ . He had been looking forward to this for ages, he had wanted to be alone with him for so long. It was like a drug, and he was getting addicted. One time and he couldn’t stop, he just wanted to be intoxicated again and again. He threw on his cloak before going downstairs so that nobody would spot him making his way through the common room. When he got to the portrait hole, he looked around to make sure that nobody was looking and murmured the password. The fat lady swung open and he crept through without a word to her, just in case. 

 

“That’s not funny!” She shouted at some first years that sat nearby. “Maybe you like making me swing open for nobody, but it’s not funny! Find your thrills elsewhere if you please!”

 

Rolling his eyes, Harry walked much quicker through the empty hallways. He wanted to know what Draco had planned for tonight, what would they  _ do?  _ Did he know about the passage to the Shrieking Shack? Surely he did, why else would he suggest meeting at the Whomping Willow? But how did he know it wasn’t actually haunted? Harry obviously knew that the screams that had been heard years ago belonged to Remus whenever he was transforming into his wolf form, but nobody else knew. Nobody but him, Ron, Hermione, Dumbledore, Remus and Sirius. And.. Snape. Why would Snape bother telling that to Draco? 

 

Deciding it didn’t matter, Harry stopped thinking about that and just made his way down there. When he got to the doorway leading outside, he felt his shoulders slump, his heart seemed to fall a bit. He was late, but Draco wasn’t there. Maybe he had shown up earlier but then thought Harry wasn’t coming so left? It had only been five minutes though…. Perhaps he was held up too. Maybe he was having trouble escaping from his own common room, and he didn’t have an invisibility cloak to help him, either. Continuing to think of reasons Draco wasn’t there yet, Harry walked towards the tree. He didn’t dare go to near it, instead sat down nearby, back against a wall. 

 

After a few minutes he started to hear the familiar  _ clunk  _ of Moody’s fake leg, it made a loud noise with every other step. Harry froze. He couldn’t even put his cloak on, Moody could see through it. Oh god, if he got caught… he started to panic, wondering what sort of trouble he would get in. Moody seemed to like him, maybe he wouldn’t care, but he would definitely ask what he was up to. Getting caught hanging around a wild tree at past 10 at night could look slightly dodgy. Even though he knew it was no use, he tried to shrink back slightly, thinking maybe Moody wouldn’t see him. 

 

“Potter.”

 

He flinched at the sound of his name, gritting his teeth. He rose to his feet, moving out of the shadows. 

 

“Hello, Sir.” He said, trying to sound as natural as possible, like this was a completely normal situation for him to be in. 

 

“What are you doing out here?” He growled. 

 

“I was just-” he started to reply, but broke off when he realised he had no idea what excuse could get him out of this. He was breaking the curfew, simple as. He would definitely get punished. 

 

Mad-Eye analysed him with his magical eye, the other one looking off in the other direction. “I didn’t see you here.” He winked then, and left without another word. 

 

Staring after the professor in shock, Harry realised his heart was racing. Sure, Moody was great, he was an amazing teacher, he really had a feel for the dark arts and Harry respected that a lot. And he really had helped him to get through the first task by giving him that advice about flying. Even so… Harry got a weird vibe. Whenever he was with the ex auror he felt slightly out of sorts, like he shouldn’t have his guard down at all. He shivered - whether it was from cold air or the creepy vibe, he didn’t know. 

 

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps, very fast footsteps, like they were running. They broke off a little distance away and moments later, Draco appeared. He was loping now, a slow and lazy walk, hands in his pockets. Harry tried not to snort with laughter. Draco had been very eager, but never in his dizziest daydreams would he show it. Deciding not to say anything, Harry walked to meet him. Now that the build up was over he started to feel nervous, not really sure how to act. 

 

“Hi.” He said awkwardly. 

 

“Potter.” Draco replied in greeting, nodding his head slightly. “Been here long?”

 

“No.” Harry lied, “Got here a few minutes ago.”

 

Obviously not believing him, Draco rose an eyebrow, and then gestured at the tree. “So you know the secret about this thing?”

 

“How do you know the secret?” Harry asked, feeling more suspicious by the second. 

 

“I have my ways.” Draco muttered under his breath. 

 

Then without another word he moved towards the tree at great speed, moving faster than Harry thought he could move, pushing the panel in the tree before the branches could even start to attack. Gesturing to Harry to follow, he slid through the hole disappeared. Harry watched him go, that boy really did manage to surprise him to no end. With a nervous gulp, he moved forwards and went through. Maybe he should have thought about how it was usually a bad idea to follow your enemy to secret locations, but… it was worth the risk. 

  
  
  
  
  


Crawling out of the passageway and slowly rising to his feet, Harry let his eyes roam around the room for a while before finally landing on Draco. The light was dim, the room seemed to creak with the slightest of movements. Frankly, the shrieking shack was quite disgusting. However, standing with his pale skin seemingly glowing, white blond hair shining a little, glistening; his eyes narrowed still but with slightly less of a shielded mask… Draco Malfoy was beautiful. He looked completely and utterly beautiful, it made Harry’s heart thud a little harder. He wanted to speak and break the silence, but his tongue seemed to be a very heavy weight in his mouth, he couldn’t move it. 

 

“I didn’t know if you’d come.” Draco said at last. 

 

Harry exhaled a sigh of relief, the quiet was beginning to grow unbearable. “Yeah, I didn’t know if you would.”

 

“Why wouldn’t I?” Draco replied, rolling his eyes. “I invited you here, Potter.”

 

“Yeah, alright.” Harry said quickly, defensive at Draco’s ever scathing tone. 

 

Obviously the two of them meeting up, having whatever kind of arrangement they had, would never stop Malfoy’s arrogance, his rude tones. Surely that should annoy Harry, he knew it should, but… well. He was just happy to have some kind of relationship with him.

 

The air seemed to be as stiff as they were feeling, everything was awkward. Both of them wanted something to happen but they were too afraid to make a move. It had never happened like this before, the kisses had always been a shock, out of the blue. Now that they had met purely for getting off with each other, it was as if they’d forgotten how to move. How to talk. How to think. 

 

“Does anyone know where you are?” Harry asked, tentative. He took a tiny step closer, a lame attempt at closing the massive gap between the pair of them. 

 

“No.” Draco replied, somewhat bluntly, as he took a step too. 

 

“Me neither,” said Harry, “I had to sneak away without anyone seeing.”

 

“How did nobody notice the greatest Hogwarts champion Harry Potter sneaking away?” Draco said, words of venom and sarcasm. 

 

“The same could be said for you, but then again, all your cronies are brainless brutes, aren’t they?”

 

“Watch your mouth, Potter.” 

 

“That’s not all you want me to do with my mouth, is it?”

 

They were standing considerably closer now. As usual, insulting one another seemed to cause great tension. And the tension made Harry very hot and bothered. Feeling Draco’s out of control breaths was a teller, he wasn’t as cool and collected as he was managing to appear on the outside. They were driving each other crazy, had been for months now. And finally… they were here. Alone. Away from the castle, away from the prying eyes of other students. They stared at one another, eyes practically melting into one gaze rather than two. The floorboards creaked, wind whistled at the cracks in the walls. Harry had the urge to shiver at the thought of the cold weather, but being so close to Draco was making him sweat. 

 

“Oh yeah?” Draco murmured, speaking softly. “What exactly can you do with it? Those… those pretty boy lips of yours?” His words came out shaking ever so slightly, it made Harry smirk. He wasn’t the only one who was nervous.  

 

_ Pretty boy lips… _

 

Without another word, Harry lifted a hand to Draco’s chin, tilting his face to meet Harry’s. They were more or less the same height, Harry was just a tiny bit taller. Leaning down, their lips met. Harry’s tongue teased for just a moment before they were fully snogging, tasting each other, feeling each other’s ragged breaths as they collapsed into each other. Draco twisted his fingers into Harry’s hair, tightening his hold a little, tugging ever so slightly. The shock made Harry moan, and then the harshness turned to gentle strokes. 

 

Their kissing was growing more and more surprising, each time. They always seemed to lose their minds, they forgot who they were. One minute they’d be gentle and soft, the next it’d be like they were fighting with their tongues. Harry’s head was numb, every thought going fuzzy. He just knew one thing… he wanted to do more. 

 

It happened gradually. They spent a while longer, teasing each other. Draco started to become more aware of himself, he seemed to remember he was Draco Malfoy and he would not be the one ruled by Harry Potter. Taking back charge, he moved his hands to Harry’s shoulders and pushed him rather hard (not enough to hurt) back into one of the walls. He was being kind of rough but Harry  _ liked  _ it. Moving his attention from Harry’s lips to his neck, he returned to the spot he had enjoyed so much last time. Taking the skin in his teeth, he bit down for a second before sucking it properly. He left a nice red mark, it was bruising slightly already by the time he pulled away, and Harry was moaning with his eyes shut, completely lost in bliss. 

 

Then - “Suck my dick.” Draco said. It was sort of pleading but it was also an order, commanding. 

 

Harry didn’t have to be asked twice. He had never done it before, he didn’t really know what he was doing, but in the rush of horniness and feelings he was suddenly eager to do whatever he could to please Draco, to hear his groans of satisfaction. Dropping down to his knees, Harry unzipped Draco’s trousers and pulled them down. 

 

As he got to work, hand working at the same time as his tongue, he looked up to meet Draco’s eyes. It was like looking into those of a stranger, a very handsome stranger. Being on his knees before Malfoy gave Harry a twisted sense of relief, he enjoyed it. He teased at first, licking the length up and down, being as slow as humanly possible. He knew what he wanted, and he would get it. 

 

“Harry,” Draco rasped, leaning his head back slightly, eyes squeezed shut, “Harry just do it.” 

 

Moving away but continuing to massage Draco’s member, Harry’s lips twitched up a little, a devilish smile. “What do you say, Malfoy?”

 

There was only a moment’s hesitation, when Harry started to move away Draco rushed to say, “Please, Harry. Please- please suck me off.”

 

Harry obliged. As he worked his magic, he looked right back up at Draco. He liked doing that. As he tasted Malfoy, as he felt him, he liked to look into his eyes. He liked to really look into him, to see the boy with his guard down.  The boy he would only ever see away from the public eye, behind closed doors. It seemed like a very brief moment of getting the real Draco Malfoy. He looked crazed, he looked completely blissed out, he looked happy and confused all at once. His brow was creased, as if slightly frustrated. But then he would smile. His moans were free, he wasn’t trying to be somebody he wasn’t. 

 

Once Draco had released himself, Harry wiped his mouth and got to his feet. They were both out of breath, both sweating through their school shirts. Harry wished Draco would take his off, he wanted to see his body, completely see it. 

 

Shaking his head, Draco looked as if he was questioning everything he knew, but he pulled Harry closer by the collar of his shirt and kissed him again. He didn’t seem to care that Harry had just had the very same lips around Harry’s dick, and Harry liked that. It felt real. It felt like they truly meant something, their kisses. He smiled into it ever so slightly - though he forced the smile off of his face when they broke apart. 

 

“That was…” Draco breathed, he was panting a bit like a dog. Harry chuckled. 

 

“Good?”

 

“Oh god.” Draco sighed, “Out of this world. I- I’m a complete mess thanks to you.”

 

“You’re welcome.” Harry continue to laugh, but then he got serious again. 

 

The action appeared to have made Draco slightly sleepy, he seemed very out of it. It was weird, seeing him like this. Seeing him so… human. Harry was seeing him less like Malfoy, rotten and cruel, and more like - Draco. Himself. More than just his family name. 

 

“So how is this going to work?” Harry said, and he took Draco’s hand. 

 

He was nervous to do it, but he wanted to feel their fingers intertwined, he wanted his skin to meet Draco’s. It felt right, it felt like a puzzle, as cringey as that sounded in his head. He just thought - it was the perfect fit. 

“Well,” Draco thought for a second, “We just- we just can’t tell anyone. I’m- I’m sorry, but, we can’t.”

 

“No, obviously not.” Harry rushed to agree. “Like we agreed, everything is normal when people are around. I just- I don’t…” he struggled to think of how to word it. It was something that had been bothering him ever since they first agreed to see each other secretly. “I don’t want you going behind Pansy’s back to be with me.”

 

“Since when did you care about Pansy? Even I don’t care about her.”

 

Hearing him talk like that twisted Harry’s gut a bit, if he could talk like that about the girl he was supposedly with, it was just further evidence that Draco wasn’t very nice. 

 

“But… aren’t you and her like, together?”

 

“She thinks we are. I’ve never said so.” Draco said, everything about him completely disregarding the idea. “It’s not like her and I are in love or anything ridiculous like that.”

 

“So you aren’t- you aren’t  _ cheating _ on her?” 

 

The guard came back up. Draco looked reproachful, the familiar sneering glare was slapped right back onto his face. “Look, Potter, do you want us to happen or not?”

 

Harry thought long and hard. It was silent as he tried to decide. Even if Draco had never said he wanted to be with Pansy, she obviously seemed to think they were. She cared about him, she tried to be there for him. But… well. She wasn’t exactly nice. Harry just couldn’t stand the idea of being The Other Man, but - he wanted it so bad. He wanted Draco so bad. And nobody would ever find out.

 

“Yes.” He said, slowly. “I want us to happen.”

 

“Alright then.” Draco said, setting the decision as final. “We’ll be like friends with benefits, only… enemies with benefits.”

 

Harry smiled at the thought, but then remembered the key point there.  _ Enemies _ . He and Draco weren’t friends, and they never would be. And… and this was probably the most terrible thing Harry had ever done. If Pansy found out she would be completely devastated. He just wanted it so bad. If he didn’t take what he craved so badly, he really would drive himself completely insane. So the final decision had been made. 

 

Enemies with benefits. 

 

By the time they had gotten back to Hogwarts and separated, it was very late indeed. Making his way up to the common room, Harry was pleased to find it completely empty. He was still wide awake and didn’t feel like going to bed, so he went and sat down on an armchair near one of the fires. He just couldn’t help but acknowledge the new thought that had started nagging at his mind. 

 

He wanted to be something more. He didn’t want to just be used for sex. He wanted  _ more _ . He deserved better. But… if he had to choose between being used by Draco or not having Draco at all - he would definitely choose the first. 

 

He just had to ignore any other feelings as best as he could. He’d have to shove his heart down, despite Dumbledore’s advice to always follow his heart. No, that would have to be forgotten now. Draco was for the benefits, nothing more. 

  
He tried to act as if it didn’t feel like somebody was driving a hot iron blade right into his stomach. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just a note to say, i don't think cheating is ever right! i'm purely writing about it for the purpose of this story, please don't think i believe it's okay though   
> thank you very much for reading!


	8. show me you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you like this chapter! It gets quite feelsy, feel free to let me know what you think!

Whenever Harry saw Draco around school, it felt as if there was a fire burning in the pit of his stomach, heating up his veins and his heart - and his face. He could never help but flush a light shade of pink, memories of the things they had been getting up to in secret. Keeping everything a secret from his best friends wasn’t proving too difficult either, all Harry had to do was make up an excuse and sneak off. He really didn’t like keeping secrets from them, but… well. They didn’t  _ need  _ to know. It wasn’t as if Draco and Harry were even considering making their relationship public, what they had was just mindless fun. Nobody needed to know. 

 

On one particular day, Harry was sat at the Gryffindor table in the dining hall with Ron and Hermione, his recent moments with Malfoy fresh in his mind. They had gone a lot further than usual, taking advantage of the extra time they had had. It was almost as if he could still feel Draco’s mouth wrapped around him, feel his fingers, feel every single slight touch to Harry’s bare skin. It felt like a dream, he was never really sure if the moments had happened. It just didn’t seem likely when they were so distant at all other times. The times when they were alone could easily be figments of Harry’s imagination, they acted so differently. But the touches were definitely real. Harry had never been touched like that before. 

 

He was thinking everything over, when Ron made a sound of disgust. 

 

“What?” Asked Harry, to which Ron responded with a simple nod of the head. 

 

Following his eyeline, Harry glanced over at the Slytherin table. Draco and Pansy were sat, practically knotted together in one complicated design, it looked as if they were eating one another’s faces. There was a clatter as Harry’s knife and fork fell down onto his plate. Hermione looked to him, brow furrowed. 

 

“Are you alright?” She asked, concerned. 

 

“Well,” Harry muttered, trying to sound like he couldn’t care less, trying to sound as if there wasn’t a jealous monster roaring inside of him, caged and enraged, “That’s certainly put me off my appetite.”

 

Ron made a noise of agreement, but Hermione continued looking at Harry, as if she could sense there was something more behind his sudden change of heart. He has his jaw and fists clenched so tightly he felt like a rope being pulled taut enough to tear. Trying to escape her watchful eye, Harry stared down at his plate. 

 

He felt sick. Sometimes, he forgot that Draco and Pansy were supposedly together. He forgot that Draco was cheating on someone to be with him. Maybe this meant he didn’t have any right to feel so jealous, to feel so cheated himself - it’s not like Draco belonged to him. But even so, seeing him with  _ her _ , that  _ troll _ , it made Harry feel utterly miserable. What made it worse was he couldn’t even show it, couldn’t voice this sadness to anyone. The devastation would continue to boil within him, and Harry was pretty sure that soon he would burst, he would erupt flaming hot lava all over the place. As much as he tried to ignore that inevitably, it continued to nibble at him. 

 

He was still staring at Draco and Pansy. And Draco finally looked across at him. Their eyes met, grey and green colliding. The only difference was, Harry’s quite clearly showed some kind of emotion. Draco just looked careless. There were no storms in his eyes, nor was there any warmth. Just completely blank. Holding Harry’s gaze for only a second, he broke away just as quickly. He didn’t care. He didn’t care that he was quite clearly flaunting everything in front of Harry. Or maybe he just didn’t realise, maybe he thought he meant nothing to Harry just as Harry meant nothing to him. 

 

Little did he know, every second was killing the seemingly invincible Mr Potter. 

 

**********

 

Rita Skeeter was after Hermione. After she had spoken out about the reporter’s slander in the Daily Prophet, Hermione was now the victim of a series of reports about how she was stringing along any boy she could - and she seemed to have an eye for champions. Everything the horrible woman wrote labelled Hermione as a ‘muggleborn harlot’. 

 

“Harlot!” She seethed as she analysed the latest piece in the paper, waving it around furiously. “I’ve never even-” pausing, she looked around and lowered her voice to a whisper, “I’ve never even done anything with a boy. How could she write such horrible things?”

 

Trying to be sympathetic, Harry offered her a reluctant smile, “Everyone knows Skeeter writes rubbish, Hermione.”

 

“Yes, well you had people quoting that garbage she wrote about you for  _ weeks _ !” Hermione hissed, “Now I’m going to have people calling me a- a  _ slut  _ everywhere I go!” Her cheeks were very pink. 

 

Ron looked slightly nervous, he had been one of the people who had laughed about Harry’s article back when they weren’t speaking. He hadn’t openly said anything directly  _ to  _ Harry though… sighing, he took the paper and skimmed it himself. 

 

“Honestly Hermione, don’t stress.” He tried to be soothing, but as usual, Ron was ever tactless. “Nobody is actually going to believe that Viktor Krum  _ and  _ Harry Potter wanted to  _ sleep  _ with you. And besides, you’re only 15-” 

 

“ _ Oh _ !” Hermione said shrilly, getting to her feet. “Of course nobody would ever want to go  _ near  _ me! Ugly, mudblood Hermione!” 

 

Aghast, Ron rushed to attempt to smooth over what he had said, but the error had been done. Hermione had tears pricking the corners of her eyes as she ignored his stutters, turned on her heel, and practically sprinted from the room. Filled with uncertainty, Harry slowly started to rise to his feet. He never really knew what to do when it came to comforting Hermione, he just simply didn’t understand girls. Still, he thought he better sort things out as best as he could before Ron and Hermione stopped talking entirely and left Harry stuck in the middle. 

 

“See you back in the common room.” He muttered to Ron, before following the path Hermione had led out of the room. He figured she was going to the library, she usually headed there when she wanted to be alone. 

 

Except, she wasn’t there. Harry saw her up ahead as she rounded a corner, and she was surrounded by all too familiar figures. Draco Malfoy, Pansy Parkinson, Crabbe, Goyle and a gaggle of other Slytherins Harry didn’t know by name. Feeling rage bubbling from head to toe, Harry sped up as he stormed up to the crowd. They could be heard sniggering from a far distance, and Harry felt slightly sick. Usually, Hermione never let bullies get her down. She was great at holding her head high and brushing them off, but at the moment, she was very emotional. He felt for her, he really did. Pulling out his wand, he started to shove his way through.

 

“Who would want to go  _ near  _ her?” Pansy was saying. 

 

“I certainly wouldn’t.” It was Draco talking now, Harry’s stomach was very unsettled, he felt slightly sick - a mixture of nerves and disgust. “I’d get some sort of mudblood disease. I’d be in a hospital bed for months.”

 

Without saying a word, Harry lifted his wand and pointed it at Draco. He shot a hex from it, the first thing that came to mind. Somehow, Draco heard him, and he leapt out of the way just in time. His batbogey hex hit Crabbe head on, and humungous black bogies started to flap out of his nose. Everyone around them grimaced, and then turned their attention to Harry. 

 

“Potter,” Draco spat, hearing him talk like that made Harry flinch. He looked into the eyes of the boy he had started to know, and saw nothing but the cowardly enemy he remembered. 

 

“Leave Hermione alone.” Harry said firmly, and then he nodded to Crabbe, he seemed to be suffering greatly. “Or we’ll create a real storm of bats here.”

 

“Don’t you dare.” Draco hissed, just as Pansy pulled out her wand and pointed it at Harry now. 

 

They were interrupted by rushed footsteps and then Professor McGonagall appeared at the end of the hallway. A thunderous expression and her booming, furious shout was enough to make the Slytherin’s back off. 

 

“What is going on here?” She demanded to know, eyeing Crabbe. “Who hexed you?”

 

“It was Potter.” Draco sneered, his eyes flashed as he looked at Harry. 

 

Hermione was sniffling behind Harry, and she mumbled an apology to him. He brushed it aside, she had no reason to say sorry. “They were ganging up on Hermione, Professor.”

 

McGonagall definitely believed him, she didn’t look at all surprised. “Seven against one. You should all be ashamed of yourselves. Nevertheless, Potter, you know hexing another student in the school grounds is strictly forbidden.”

 

She dished out some detentions and took away points, before marching off. The crowd dispersed immediately after she had left, leaving just Harry, Hermione, Pansy and Draco. 

 

“You’ll regret that, Potter.” Draco said. 

 

Harry stared at him dead on. He wanted to see if the other boy showed any signs of remembering the previous night. They had been so hot and steamy, it was completely engraved into the back of Harry’s eyelids. But of course, it meant nothing to Malfoy. He was glaring at Harry like he was dirt on the bottom of his shoe. 

 

“Stay away from us.” He snapped. 

 

Pansy snorted with laughter, but she allowed herself to be pulled away by her  _ boyfriend _ . Watching them go off hand in hand made Harry want to vomit the acid in his throat. He had been wanting to talk to Draco for days, he wanted to ask him to choose between Pansy or him but… well. The answer was obvious, and then Harry would be without the one boy who fed him his desires. Turning to look at Hermione, he noticed her tearstained face and felt his heart break a little. The fact that he could  _ kiss  _ the boy who made his best friend, the smartest and bravest girl he knew, break down and  _ cry _ … he was sickened by himself. 

 

“Don’t listen to them, Hermione. We all know that that article is complete nonsense.” Harry said softly. Tentatively at first, he moved closer to her and pulled her in for a hug. She rested her head on his shoulder and continued to sob gently. 

 

“I’m just so embarrassed, Harry.” She whispered. “What if people believe it?”

 

“Nobody believes it.” Harry told her, “Neither do any of the Slytherins. You know what they’re like - they’re horrible. They just like making people miserable.  _ Don’t  _ listen to a word they say.” 

 

As they stood leaning into one another, Harry turned his head to look the way Draco and Pansy had gone. He had never felt more betrayed in his life. 

 

**************

“Put some heart into it, why don’t you?” Draco said, smirking a little as he broke off the kissing. 

 

Harry wasn’t feeling it at all, it was the most feeble, most lame attempt at making out with Draco ever. He hadn’t even wanted to come tonight, he wanted to make Draco realise what he had done to Hermione yesterday was not okay but of course… temptation overcame. He had been feeling particularly in need that day, but now he was here and hearing Draco and seeing him - it just made him remember how he and his friends had formed a circle around Hermione, insulted her, made her cry. 

 

When they were alone, Draco was different, yes. His eyes held some warmth, he even smiled occasionally, sometimes he would laugh very lightly. Of course, they often bickered about pointless things, he still sneered, he was still his arrogant Malfoy self. But… Harry didn’t like him. 

 

Or rather, he liked him so much that it hurt, but could see no valid reason. It just made him feel ridiculous, like his head wasn’t quite screwed on. 

 

“Don’t you want this at all, Harry?” Draco asked, sounding bored. “Don’t you like-”

 

“No.” Harry cut him off, tone flat and blunt. He wasn’t looking at the Slytherin boy anymore, it would have made it a lot harder to say anything of the sort. 

 

He could just sense that Draco was rolling his eyes, “No? No what?”

 

“No, no I don’t like you.” Harry lied. It was an obvious lie, he didn’t mean it whatsoever, but he thought that maybe if he said it out loud, said it to Draco, he could start to actually believe it himself. No such luck though, and Draco clearly didn’t buy it. 

 

“Well I know you don’t like me.” He said sarcastically, “You hate every second we spend alone together, don’t you?”

 

Harry glowered at him. He couldn’t think of what to say, he had no idea what he intended to come of this, he didn’t want to stop seeing Malfoy, no way. He just needed to get his voice heard, he wanted to clearly state his opinion. Words seemed to be failing him, though. 

 

“You’re a bully!” Harry said. It was a feeble attempt at an insult, it sounded like something a child would say - but Draco looked like he had been slapped in the face. That expression took Harry by surprise a little, he thought the other boy would continue to taunt, but he even flinched the tiniest fraction. 

 

“You bully people to feel good about yourself, Malfoy! Why would I want to like somebody like that?” Harry continued when Draco said nothing. 

 

However, when Draco still stayed completely silent, he shut his mouth. He stopped talking the moment he realised, the moment he acknowledged how the Slytherin boy’s shoulders were slumping, his head bowed,  _ ashamed _ . Letting his words take effect, Harry watched as the other boy backed away, into the wall where he slowly crouched down, sat on the ground. Everything had changed all too soon. Harry had gone from wanting everything to stop because Draco was so cruel to pitying the boy. He knew he shouldn’t be pitying him though, he deserve to feel bad. He deserved to feel ashamed for everything he had done. It was late, and Harry figured nothing was going to happen. He didn’t like going to sleep on bad terms with people, but he and Draco were always on bad terms, so he started to turn and leave. 

 

“I don’t feel good about myself.” Draco suddenly said in a small voice, absolutely tiny. “I… I hate it, Harry. Can’t you realise that?”

 

Turning to face him again, Harry felt at a loss for words. He didn’t know what to do, they never comforted one another. They just fooled around. And before he had come here, he hadn’t been expecting any kind of conversation. He had been pissed off but horny and thought they would just do  _ stuff…  _ but now Draco was small and sad and it made Harry’s heart ache a little. This wasn’t right though, he couldn’t just forget what Draco had done to his best friend because he was sad. At least he thought he was sad - sometimes he thought Draco had no emotions whatsoever, so he could never be sure. 

 

“Then why do you do it?” Harry asked, wondering if that was a stupid question. He took a step closer to Draco. 

 

“It isn’t easy. Being… being the son of a  _ death eater _ .” He whispered, pulling his knees up to his chest, wrapping his arms around himself like a cradle. “I know everybody hates me for the way I act, the way I treat people. But you don’t understand.”

 

Everything was still now. The night was still. For probably the first time, they were having an actual solid conversation without wanting to just kiss each other or insult each other. 

 

“No.” Harry agreed. “No I don’t understand.”

 

Ever so gradually, Draco lifted his head back up to meet Harry’s gaze. It looked as if he was  _ crying _ . A pale, silvery line slid down his face from the corner of his eyes. Feeling exceptionally awkward, Harry tried to work out if he should get any closer or stay standing. This never happened with the pair of them. They never let emotions get the best of them. 

 

“I have to be like this!” Draco insisted, eyes ablaze all of a sudden. “If I’m not… I’m weak.”

 

Harry hesitated for only a moment longer before going to sit down beside Draco. He left a considerable space between them, he wasn’t sure what the other boy wanted. Deep down Harry really wanted to hold him close and tell him he was sorry, tell him it was okay. He wished he could just make him forget he had ever said anything, because somehow he had killed the mood completely in two seconds flat But Draco wouldn’t want that. He wouldn’t want to be held. He would just shove him off. The silence continued, you could have heard a pin drop. 

 

“If I were to be…  _ nice _ , if I were to treat people as equals, my father would be disgusted.” Draco whispered. 

 

It was a very surprising turn of events. Harry had no idea his opinion would really mean this much to Malfoy. He assumed Draco had just known that Harry thought he was a horrible bully, but maybe it was different now. Maybe hearing it when it was just the two of them, when they let the masks drop - maybe it hit him hard. As if Draco got completely naked of his armour. 

 

Trying not to sound too sickened, Harry scoffed. “Surely you realise that makes your dad a bad person?”

 

“He isn’t a bad person.” Draco snapped, rounding his face on Harry, an expression of frustration and rage there now. “Don’t talk about him like that.”

 

“I’m not going to pretend to accept the fact that he’s a death eater and wants me dead, Draco.”

 

“I know.” Any traces of rage quickly disappeared and Draco returned to looking miserable. “And I’m not a good person either, okay? I’m always going to be a bully, I’m always going to be harsh and spiteful and that’s just the way I am. There’s nothing I can do to change it.”

 

Harry really disagreed. There was plenty that he could do to change it. But… he didn’t understand. He wasn’t like Draco. He didn’t have a father, he didn’t have a family who had a place in society. He didn’t come from a place of wealth and power. He didn’t have the expectations of a cruel man. He stayed silent instead, deciding to just let Draco speak for himself without any prompts. 

 

“My dad… he’s a good dad. He can be harsh but he cares about me, Harry, he does.” Draco continued talking in a low, cracked voice. Harry had to lean close to hear properly. “And he loves my mother. They’d do anything for me, and I’d do anything for them. I just want them to be proud of me.”

 

Harry wasn’t sure what to say. Of course, he disliked the Malfoy’s. They were cruel. They had despicable beliefs and they had passed these down onto their son. Harry wondered how different Malfoy would be if that weren’t his name - how different would he be if he had parents like Mr and Mrs Weasley? No, he thought it ridiculous that Draco cared about what such terrible people wanted. If the way to make them proud was to be cruel, why would he want that? 

 

But it was his family. It was the way it would always be. Honestly, Harry hated it. He hated Draco and everything he stood for. He hated how he could have such strong feelings for a boy who had displayed such spiteful, such _ evil  _ behaviour. He discriminated against muggleborns, he was nasty. He was a bully. Yet, Harry couldn’t help it. He saw beneath that. He saw who Draco was when he was alone, when his guard was down. He was scared, he was fragile. He wished he could do good. He wanted love. That’s all he wanted. 

 

“I believe you.” Harry replied, maybe a bit too late but it didn’t matter. “I believe that they care about you. They- they want the best.”

 

“They do.” Draco nodded, insistent. “Even if- even if I wish they had different ideas of the best.” 

 

Harry wouldn’t ever get it. It was weird. Draco evidently knew that he could be a bully, he knew the way he treated people wasn’t right. Yet he would continue to do it as it was the way he had been raised to be, he didn’t know how else to behave. And maybe this was wrong, maybe Draco  _ was  _ a bad person. And maybe Harry was terrible to care about such a person. 

 

He couldn’t deny it though. He really, really cared about Draco Malfoy. So much that thinking about him made his heart and soul soar - even if it was also weighed down by tremendous guilt and shame. 

 

“But Draco,” Harry said weakly, “Just because of your parents beliefs, it’s no reason to attack people. And- and Hermione. My best friend, Draco. And  _ me _ . You’re still horrible to me, even now.”

 

“I know.” It hadn’t seemed possible, but Malfoy’s voice somehow got even quieter, practically inaudible now. He was crying. Harry could tell without even looking that he was crying. “I just- I can’t help it. I- I don’t mean anything that I say, Harry.” 

 

Tilting his head, Harry glanced sidewards as Malfoy. 

 

“If anything, when I’m so horrible to you it’s just because- well. Looking at you, it drives me crazy. I want you so bad, but I can’t have you. And… and you’re a  _ boy _ . It’s just not right, I can’t be  _ gay. _ I can’t-”

 

“You can’t pretend not to be something you are forever, Draco.” Harry said firmly, shaking his head. “You can’t just keep people secret, and you can’t- you can’t carry on using Pansy to cover up the fact that you’re gay.”

 

“I’m not gay.” Draco snapped, tone harsh again. 

 

They stared at each other. It was like they were in a completely new dimension - Draco Malfoy confessing his hatred for himself, Draco Malfoy with a tear stained face. Only then he started to bawl. Loudly. He was shaking, he was saying over and over again, “I’m not gay! I’m not, I can’t be-”

 

In a desperate attempt to calm him down, Harry couldn’t help himself any longer. He had been wrong, in thinking Draco didn’t want to be held. As soon as Harry wrapped his arms around him, and cradled the other boy in his arms on the floor of the Shrieking Shack, he grew quiet. His body rocked and he was still gasping occasionally, the way people do when they try to catch their breaths after sobbing uncontrollably, but he was a lot more calm. Harry was shushing him, and rubbing his hand in small circular motions across his back. 

 

“I’m sorry, Harry.” 

 

“It’s okay.”


	9. storms full of sorrow

The day after Harry had comforted Draco as he cried, he woke up with a smile on his face. He wondered if maybe now that Draco seemed to feel more comfortable with himself, with letting Harry see the  _ real  _ him, things would be slightly different. Of course, their relationship had to remain a secret, they couldn’t let anybody find out, but maybe they would be slightly nicer to one another in the hallways of Hogwarts. Maybe every second he saw Draco wouldn’t be so painful - perhaps he would even consider ending everything with Pansy. He hadn’t voiced his opinion towards Pansy that vocally, but Harry thought that Malfoy must surely know how he felt about being with him when he was supposedly with her. 

 

Even though he was smiling, that one thought did manage to make it falter ever so slightly. He felt so awful, even if Pansy was truly horrible, he felt completely terrible about the fact that she was being cheated on thanks to  _ him _ . 

 

“You’re looking cheerful,” Ron stated as he pulled on his trousers, eyeing Harry curiously. “And we have potions first, what’s gotten into you?”

 

_ Draco’s in potions  _ Harry thought to himself hopefully, feeling that pleasure swirling around in the pit of his stomach. Deciding it was probably best to say nothing, he shrugged his shoulders instead, muttering something about it being a nice day. The pair of them went down to breakfast together, finding Hermione sat with a pile of books blocking her from view. Sitting opposite her, they waited for her to say something. Apparently she was too lost in her work though, it was as if she didn’t even notice they had joined her, scribbling furiously across her parchment. With a sigh, Ron decided to leave her to it, and turned his attention back to Harry. 

 

“Where were you last night?” He asked, buttering jam onto his toast. 

 

Harry’s cheeks flamed up, he felt the burning heat rushing to his skin. “Library.” He said before he could even think about it, hoping that Hermione didn’t announce she had been there and didn’t see him. She wasn’t even listening to them though, thank God. 

 

“What were you doing there for so long?” Ron continued to wonder, suspicion clearly evident in his tone. 

 

“Homework.” Harry said very fast, “And… research. Looking for clues about what the last task could be.”

 

That seemed to work well enough, Ron nodded his head slowly but then stopped wondering whatsoever. Too many times recently, Harry had noticed people growing suspicious about where he was disappearing off to every night. Sneaking off to meet Draco was now something he just expected to fit into his routine, if he  _ didn’t  _ go to meet him it felt weird. They usually went to the Shrieking shack, however occasionally they would meet up in abandoned corners of the castle, Draco had showed Harry a room that disappeared and only reappeared when the user needed something. They just had to stand there, think about what they wanted Hogwarts to give them, and they had the perfect make out spot. It only sometimes worked, though. 

 

As if his own fond memories could conjure up real life things, Draco came walking past the table at that very moment. Harry watched him walk with his head held high, determinedly not looking at any of the Gryffindor’s. There were no signs of tears on his face, just his usual irritation and tiredness. The dark shadows around his eyes made him look slightly like a vampire, a look that he managed to pull off surprisingly well. He was so hot, Harry thought to himself. He couldn’t believe he had ever looked at him and felt nothing but pure hatred, how had the urge to kiss him not started striking him in the chest until fourth year? 

 

“Slimy git.” Ron muttered under his breath, “What he and those twats did to Hermione…” he sounded furious. 

 

Hermione was still annoyed with Ron for saying nobody would ever believe she slept with Viktor Krum, but Harry looked across at her and saw a small glow of appreciation on her face, from what he could see behind her book anyway. Harry knew he should hate Draco for that too, and he was rightfully annoyed. However, he found himself unable to say anything bad about him all of a sudden. After hearing his reasoning last night, after seeing Draco looking so miserable, so alone and so  _ lost _ … he just couldn’t. 

 

“Wonder what Snape’s going to have us doing.” he said, a lame attempt at changing the subject. 

 

For a second Ron continued to glare after the Slytherin boy as he walked to sit down for breakfast, but then he let it go, shrugging and continuing with his own food. “Yeah. Something horrible, I’ll bet. He looks even more miserable than usual.”

 

Harry followed his gaze to the staff table, and saw that the potions master did indeed look in the worst of moods.

 

“Joy.” He muttered under his breath. 

 

*************

 

As the fourth year class lined up outside the dungeons, Harry stood leaning against a wall opposite Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle. They weren’t paying any attention to Harry, Ron or Hermione for a change, and they were instead looking very bored and staring determinedly at the floor. At one point Crabbe opened his mouth to speak, and Draco gave him the smallest of looks and he clamped his mouth right back shut. Harry was trying to catch Malfoy’s eye, but it did no good. He couldn’t get his attention whatsoever. With a frown, Harry stood up straighter as the teacher came walking up to the door, following him feeling suddenly a lot more sullen. 

 

All day, every time Harry and Draco were near each other, Draco was silent and staring straight ahead, refusing to even let his eyes linger on Harry for the smallest of seconds. It felt weird, it felt as if something was up, he was getting a strange vibe. Trying desperately to think of some kind of reason, he wondered if maybe Draco just didn’t want to let his feelings show, when people were surrounding them, he didn’t want any tiniest thing to give them away. 

 

As the hours wore on, it got harder and harder for Harry to try and convince himself that things were okay. However, he was starting to get the feeling that any sense of success in getting over the problems he and Draco faced was fleeting. He had thought, after the previous night, that the chat they had would make things slightly better. He thought it would bring them closer. But he was starting to realise that he was being avoided. It didn’t seem like a short term thing, either - it was as if nothing had ever happened between the two of them. 

 

Of course, Harry could easily have gone up to Malfoy and tried to speak to him, but he didn’t think that was very fair. He wasn’t the one being an idiot, he shouldn’t be expected to be the one to make the first attempt at conversation. Making his way down to dinner, Harry caught a glimpse of a familiar head of hair through one of the windows of a classroom. Freezing on the spot, he tried to look inside as discreetly as he could manage. His eyes definitely were not deceiving him, Pansy and Draco were inside. She was straddling his lap, they were very lost in their deep kissing, Malfoy had his hands stroking the curves of her body. He felt sick. To think that he had woken up that morning with a smile on his face seemed completely impossible, all of a sudden everything seemed quite terrible. 

 

Draco didn’t like her. He didn’t want to be with her. He was miserable, everything he did was an act, an act to please his death eater parents. The true him wanted Harry, he wanted Harry to  _ love  _ him. Both of them knew this, but… it seemed that meant nothing. Harry wanted to hit himself with an avada kedavra curse, he couldn’t believe he had been so naive. 

 

*********

 

At first, Harry tried to remain normal. He tried to act completely natural, he tried to act like none of this was bothering him. He focused all of his attention for the next few weeks on attempting to prepare for the final task. It was sort of difficult to do without actually knowing what the task  _ was _ , so he just let Hermione teach him on all the basic charms and spells he didn’t know. Thankfully, defence against the dark arts was something he excelled at greatly, and that would probably be the subject including the most helpful things when doing the task. Or at least he  _ was _ . 

 

He was too distracted. It was as if he couldn’t tell his hand what to do, whenever he tried to perform any kind of charm or spell, it just didn’t do anything. Or it did it very very weakly. Or it did the completely wrong thing and sparked a great fire in the middle of the room. 

 

Wearily, Hermione sighed and frowned as she examined Harry like he was a very interesting science experiment. “What’s bothering you so much, Harry?”

 

The question caught him off guard, he stared back at her, completely wordless. She looked as if she was expecting an answer for a moment more, but then sat down beside him on the sofa, exhaling a heavy breath of frustration mingled with pity. “Harry, I know you’re nervous, but-”

 

“I’m not nervous.” Harry insisted, but she gave him a look. A look that said  _ don’t even try to lie to me Potter, I’m the smartest student in this school and can see right through you.  _ “I have nothing to be nervous about!”

 

“How about taking part in an extremely dangerous challenge in front of the whole school, a challenge you were possibly entered into by someone seeking to  _ kill you _ ? Remember that?” Hermione snapped, sounding quite irritated. Rightfully so, she had spent hours teaching him countless different tricks and he hadn’t managed to do a single one. It was like he was barely listening to her. 

 

Well… he wasn’t. He tried to, but every single time he started to focus on something, his brain felt like it was melting and his mind would wander. He would think about secret nights spent in the Shrieking Shack with Draco, thinking about how much he missed his touch, how much he missed hearing his voice. He couldn’t work out what had gone wrong, that was another thing constantly plaguing at him. The last time they were together, Harry had held Draco, he had listened to him with an open mind and a kind, kind heart. He did everything right. And somehow… it was still a complete mess. 

 

“Oh right, yeah.” Harry muttered. “That.”

 

“Harry, you have to  _ try _ .” Hermione proceeded to tell him, worry weighing down her tone now as well. How she could possibly have so many emotions at once, Harry did not know. “You have to at least try and do these things, Harry,  _ please _ !”

 

“Don’t you think I’m trying?” He grunted in retort. He flew to his feet all of a sudden, feeling rage swarming over him in a big, drowning wave. Suddenly he had lost it, it was like not being able to express the anger he felt towards Draco Malfoy had been building up inside of him for two weeks and now he had a target, he was going to throw it all at her. Even as he was speaking, he felt guilty. “I’m trying, Hermione! Just because I’m not  _ perfect,  _ just because I’m not the smartest one in the year, it doesn’t mean I’m not trying! I don’t have to  _ remember  _ what’s going on, Hermione, because I  _ know _ ! I know someone is trying to kill me, I know I’m-”

 

“Oi!” He was interrupted by Ron, entering the room carrying some snacks for the pair of them, they hadn’t gone to dinner. He glared at Harry, “What are you shouting at her for?” 

 

Falling back down to earth, Harry clamped his mouth shut. He looked from one of them to the other with wide eyes, not really sure with what emotion they were wide. Anger? Guilt? Sadness? He didn’t know. He never knew what he was feeling anymore. He felt lost. Without seeing Draco he felt like he didn’t know who he was anymore, he didn’t know what to feel. He was waiting for Draco to come to him and apologise, but it didn’t seem like that was going to happen anytime soon. 

 

“I’m sorry, Hermione,” he said softly, shaking his head in despair at himself, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have- I’m sorry.” 

 

She was staring at him in shock. For a second it looked as if she was going to just walk out of the room, but then her shoulders slumped and she bowed her head. “No, Harry, don’t be sorry. You- you have every reason to be stressed out.” She said softly.

 

Ron wasn’t saying anything, but he was still glaring at Harry. Hermione did leave the room then, walking off without another word, though she offered Harry a shaky smile. 

 

“Just because you’re stressed out, don’t take it out on her.” Ron said, “She’s trying to help you. She’s probably done more to help you get through this tournament than you’ve done yourself.”

 

“I know that.” Harry said. “I know.” 

 

He left, following Hermione’s path out the room, to find an abandoned corner, sit alone, and wallow in self pity. 

 

*********

 

Harry had had enough. It was the third week not talking to Malfoy and each added day just increased his frustration. He was growing more and more irritable, every small thing making him want to crack. He felt miserable. He had two of the bestest friends in the world but he couldn’t even appreciate them because they weren’t who we wanted. The task was rearing it’s ugly head and he knew he wouldn’t be able to get through it if he was still worrying about the situation with Malfoy. He had to talk to him. Even if they were over, he had to know for sure, and he had to get an explanation. The way things were was like the end of a sentence without a full stop. No, he had to talk to him. He couldn’t continue with this opinion that he couldn’t be the first one to break the silence or it would make him look pathetic, he couldn’t. He had to be the brave one. He had to acknowledge the awkward relationship between him and Malfoy. 

 

He wished he could just accept that it was over. He wished it wasn’t killing him. Malfoy was horrible. He was cheating on Pansy with Harry (though it felt awfully much like he was actually cheating on Harry with Pansy) and he was just being the arrogant creep he always was. But… he couldn’t accept it. He wouldn’t. They had a chance, and he wouldn’t allow it to just be tossed away. 

 

Ignoring the staring eyes of all of his peers, Harry swallowed his pride and strode up to Draco’s desk as soon as the bell rang to signify the end of charms class. At first Draco tried to pretend like he didn’t even know that he was there, keeping his eyes fixed determinedly on his books as he shoved them into his bag. 

 

“Malfoy.” Harry said firmly, putting as much venom into the word as he could. Draco still wouldn’t speak, or even glance up. “Don’t act like you can’t hear me Malfoy or so be it I will say everything right now so everyone can hear me.”

 

“Alright.” Draco said in a rush, panic audibly rising in his chest. “Alright. What do you want, Potter?”

 

It was the first thing he had said to Harry in weeks, and just hearing his voice saying his name made Harry’s heart melt. He wished it wouldn’t though, it was as if it didn’t know his brain at all. Draco was horrible, Draco wasn’t right. He shouldn’t be the one to make his stomach flutter with butterflies. Nevertheless, it did. 

 

“What do you think I want?” Harry said in a low voice, well aware that Hermione and Ron were waiting for him, probably straining to hear what he was saying.  “To  _ talk _ .”

 

“There’s nothing to talk about.” Draco said. 

 

“I disagree.” Harry spat. “Meet me tonight in the astronomy tower at eleven. If you don’t show, Merlin help me, I will shout what I want to say in the middle of breakfast tomorrow for the whole world to hear.”

 

He left without leaving any room for any more words, hoisting his bag onto his shoulder and stalking out of the room, Hermione and Ron following with their unanswered questions spilling out of their mouths in streams. 

 

Harry felt strangely relieved. Going up to Draco had been oddly difficult - but at least he had done it. If he could just hammer some sense into Draco, make him realise the silence wasn’t worth it, everything would be okay. Though he was starting to believe any glimmer of happiness and hope was starting to be pointless when it came to Draco Malfoy. 

 

**********

 

As usual, Harry was the first to reach the astronomy tower. He took some time to sit and look up at the stars. It was a clear night, no clouds blocking the view, shining diamonds dotted all across the moonlit sky. The moon itself was full, giving off a beautifully silvery light. In the distance, the sound of a wolf howling emitted. It was a huge crack in the deadly silence, and Harry found his thoughts wandering to his dad and Sirius’ best friend, Remus Lupin. He wondered how it must feel to be a werewolf, how lonely Remus must feel. But… recently, Harry felt just as lonely. He had his best friends of course but it didn’t feel the same, he missed having a proper family. He missed Draco. He wished he had somebody he could talk to about the fear that filled his entire body. The final task was approaching and he really didn’t feel at all prepared. Despite the fact that he had spent so much time with Hermione teaching him different charms and spells and hexes, he still didn’t feel like he was ready. He couldn’t win, he knew that for a fact. He was younger, he was a lot more inexperienced. Sure, he’d fought against Quirrel, he’d slain a basilisk and the memory of Tom Riddle in the chamber of secrets… but this was different. And on this, he was being graded. He was being judged closely for his actions, it wasn’t just a matter of whether or not he survived. 

 

Sometimes, Harry just wished he could escape. Escape the tournament, escape Hogwarts - escape having to see Draco every single day and not even being able to say a single word to him. He was hopeful that that was about to change. Just as he was starting to doubt that Draco was even going to show up, he heard approaching footsteps. Just incase, he ducked behind one of the huge telescopes, it didn’t hide him that well but it was the first place he could get to. 

 

“Hi.” 

 

Breathing a sigh of relief, Harry realised it was Draco. He had actually shown up. His voice shook as he spoke, it sounded like he was nervous to be with Harry. Well, he made Harry nervous, too. He made him weak at the knees and he made his fingers tremble, his head fuzzy, his bones seemed to turn to utter mush. 

 

“Hey.” He said back, looking at Draco properly for the first time in forever. 

 

In the dim light, his skin was almost as silver as the moon, he looked beautiful. His hair glimmered too, his eyes shone. Harry wished so badly he could just go up to him and kiss him, but he couldn’t. It felt like forever since Draco had broken down in front of him and cried in his arms, now they seemed distant. That fact alone felt like a knife twisting deep into Harry’s gut.  He didn’t know what he was supposed to say, he just stood there opening and closing his mouth, making him look very much like a goldfish. 

 

“Why did you ask me here, Potter?” Draco said, his voice no longer shook but he just sounded riddled with boredom. 

 

It took a moment for Harry to even register the question, he was just surprised that Malfoy had shown up. But when did he, he felt a surge of anger. “Why do you think?” He said, the rage bubbling at the tip of his tongue. 

 

Draco just stared blankly. 

 

“What’s going on?” Harry said, trying (and failing) to keep his voice from getting too loud, it was very quickly raising to a shout. “What- what happened? Why did you stop talking to me? One minute you were pouring your heart out to me and the next you’re ignoring me!”

 

Still, Draco just stared. As he looked at Harry, his eyes showed no sign of emotion whatsoever. Balling his fists, Harry felt the sudden urge to bolt towards him and punch him in the face. He managed to stay still though. 

 

“You can’t just act like none of it happened, Draco!” He yelled, “You can’t just brush the months under the carpet! We- we had something!” 

 

Silence. The wolf outside was still howling, louder and louder. Harry wished he could howl with it. He didn’t want to tell Draco how much he was hurting. He didn’t want to let it be known how much he missed him, he didn’t want any of his feelings to come out because he knew Draco would just scoff at them. 

 

He’d always known Draco was a complete jerk. But he had started to believe it was different when it came to Harry. 

 

“What the fuck is it, Draco?!” Harry exploded, “What? You’re embarrassed that you cried in front of me? You’re  _ embarrassed  _ because I’m the first one to see you actually have a heart, is that it?!” 

 

If he hadn’t been staring Draco right in the eyes, he would have completely missed the single flash of hurt that crossed over his face. It was gone in a split second, but it had definitely been there. He felt bad, but then realised he shouldn’t be feeling bad. Draco had been making him feel hurt for three weeks now, and he said one, not even mean just  _ honest  _ thing and felt guilty. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair at all. Taking a moment to try and calm himself down, Harry closed his eyes and took a deep breath. But when he opened them, Draco was still standing there, motionless, wordless. It made Harry want nothing more than to just run at him, shove him to the floor,  _ something _ . It felt as if he was talking to a brick wall. 

 

“TALK TO ME!” He bellowed, marching closer to him, standing right in his eye line so he had no choice but to acknowledge Harry’s presence. “Why did you fucking come here if you aren’t going to talk to me?! Answer my questions, stop being such a PRICK!”

 

Breaking off, Harry waited. Silence. 

 

Lifting his hands to his head, Harry actually tore at the black tufts of hair there, yanking at it in pure irritation. Turning round, he stormed to the other side of the tower, looking out at the night. He couldn’t believe how at peace he had felt just a moment ago, now he would have gladly thrown himself off, toppling down to the ground. 

 

“Just go.” He said over his shoulder when he realised this was useless. They were over. He wouldn’t get the full stop to the sentence he so needed, it would just be left open. No reason. No explanation. 

 

He waited, but he heard no sound of footsteps leaving. Turning back around, he stared dead at Draco. “What are you still doing here? It was clearly pointless. I don’t know why I fucking bother with you.”

 

“We can’t ever work, Harry.” Draco said at last. Harry stared at him. He tried to work out what his tone was, it was somewhat completely emotionless but… there was a hint of sadness. A hint of regret. He didn’t understand what exactly was going on - he had known this was the case of course, but hearing Draco actually speak it - it hurt him even more. He shut his eyes, trying to hold back the tears that immediately wanted to fall. 

 

He had so badly been hoping that Draco would apologise, say it was all alright, say he was being stupid. He wanted him to come and hug him, he wanted him to kiss him, undress him,  _ love him _ . 

 

“There’s no point in having false hope. All we are ever going to get is secret sex that nobody can know about. You- you deserve more.”

 

“Then give me more.” Harry pleaded, shaking his head in disbelief. “We can have more. If you want more, we can-”

 

“ _ No _ . We  _ can’t _ .” Draco said smoothly. “My family would disown me.”

 

“Then that just shows they don’t really love you.”

 

Draco silenced Harry with a look. 

 

“Just because you have no parents yourself, Potter, you can’t go round trying to convince me mine don’t love me. They do. You just don’t understand them.”

 

Harry winced. It was like a shard of glass fired right at his heart. Draco had never spoken about his dead parents so disrespectfully like that when they were alone. And when they were alone he got the real Draco, he got his real feelings. He wasn’t sure if he could believe his ears. Or his eyes, he couldn’t fathom how Draco was suddenly standing there looking at Harry as if he was nothing to him. It really was as if the past months hadn’t ever happened. The kisses, the hand holding, touching each other in ways they had never been touched before, seeing each other completely exposed, completely naked - emotionally  _ and  _ physically. He didn’t care anymore, he let the tears fall. Even if Draco was a robot, he wasn’t. 

 

“Why are you doing this to me?” He whispered. He felt weak. Completely broken. 

 

He had known through the whole thing that he cared more. But he didn’t realise Draco’s cares were nonexistent. 

 

“I’m sorry.” Draco said. 

“No you’re not.” Harry shook his head, “If you were sorry you wouldn’t be doing this. If you were sorry you wouldn’t have completely ignored me for weeks, leave me not having a clue where we stood. You wouldn’t - you wouldn’t be doing this to me.  _ Using  _ me, I don’t-” 

 

It was no use. His shoulders slumped. He gave up. 

 

“Harry…”

 

“Just go. I need to be alone.” Harry said. 

 

For one more second, he sort of hoped Draco was going to say he didn’t mean it. He hoped he would say he missed him, that he’d kiss him and wipe his tears away. But as Draco said, it was all false hope. 

  
Draco Malfoy walked away, leaving Harry Potter alone with nothing but the stars and the heartbreaking howls of a wolf. Harry dropped to his knees and sobbed, mourning the shattered pieces of his broken heart.


	10. lost eyes, lost heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is quite a bit longer than the other ones, hope that's okay!

The next two weeks between Draco informed Harry that he was ending everything and the final task were absolute torture. Harry didn’t think he had felt this heartbroken ever. It was a very different pain to what he was used to, and it was made a lot worse by seeing Draco all around the school. On the plus side, he no longer saw Draco with Pansy, in fact they now sat as far away from one another as they could manage. Still, that did nothing to comfort Harry, nothing made him feel better. What made it even worse, was he couldn’t even tell anyone what it was. He wished he could write to Sirius and tell him everything, he wished he could confide in Ron and Hermione, he wished he had something to say when they asked why he seemed so down. The questions were getting so annoying that he started forcing huge fake smiles onto his face, but if anything, that just made it even worse. He was stretching himself too thin, trying to tape over the cracks in himself with false words of happiness, grins that didn’t belong, and it wouldn’t stick. As soon as he was alone, or when he was lying in bed at night, he would be crying to himself. He ached. His heartbreak was causing him physical pain and exhaustion, he barely even slept anymore. He forgot what he was supposed to be doing. He didn’t pay attention in class - at least he didn’t have to do exams thanks to being one of the champions. He felt like he was being an awful friend, though - which inevitably just made him feel even worse. Every time he planned to meet Ron and Hermione so that they could help him practice for the task, he just didn’t show up. Or he was late. And by the time he got there he couldn’t be bothered to do anything and would just tell them they may as well call it a day. 

 

“Harry,” Hermione said desperately when it was three days before the task, “How are you going to get through this maze? You haven’t practiced anything at all.”

 

Just a week before then, Harry and the other champions had been told by Ludo Bagman what they were to be doing to determine the winner of the tournament - making their way through a maze filled with incredibly dangerous obstacles, the first one to the middle of the maze would win. Of course, it sounded easy enough, but it most definitely would not be. It would have to be harder than the first two combined, and normally this would terrify Harry. He knew that he should be unable to sleep because he was worrying about the task, not because he was thinking about Draco Malfoy. He knew he should have been rushing to prepare as much as he could, reading books and books of information, practicing any kind of handwork he could possibly try to learn. However, instead, he was just spending the leading up days moping around, doing absolutely nothing. Even Ron was agreeing with Hermione that Harry should at least try and do  _ something _ , and he was the one who always left everything to the very last minute. 

 

“I’ll get through.” Harry muttered, not looking at either her or Ron, they were both staring at him with matching faces of concern. 

 

“But-”

 

“ _ I’ll get through. _ ” He repeated, through gritted teeth the second time. He got to his feet and swung his bag onto his shoulder, starting to walk off without even a word of goodbye.

 

“Where are you going?” Ron asked with a frown. 

 

Harry had his back to them, freezing on the spot. “I want to go on a walk.”

 

“Harry, we should at least go over basic shield charms before-”

 

“I’m going on a walk.” Harry said flatly, and he left the room, an uncomfortable silence in his wake. 

 

Being around people was just too hard for him lately. It made him feel more alone, which he didn’t even think was possible. It was harder because he knew that they were just worried for his welfare and genuinely wanted to help him, but his temper was short and he just wanted Draco. He was starting to think he would never learn to cope without him, and he barely even had him to start with, really. It’s not like they had a proper relationship. They weren’t like boyfriend and girlfriend. Draco only wanted Harry for the physical side of things, he probably would have dumped him after taking his virginity if he hadn’t decided to do it when he did. But Harry cared about him, despite all of the truth about this harsh reality. The point was, the fact that Harry was missing Draco so much made him feel so weak and  _ pathetic _ . He had survived this far, he had gotten through growing up as an orphan, facing Voldemort, fighting off the dementors… he had done so much, he had remained strong through all of those things. One tiny heartbreak from a boy who didn’t care about him at all and he was completely shattered. 

 

“Hello Harry.” 

 

He hadn’t even been looking where he was going, just wandering aimlessly around the hallways, but now he stood near the stairwell to Dumbledore’s office, where Dumbledore himself was standing, having just told the gargoyle statue the password, the door open. He was looking at Harry with a pleasant smile on his face. Harry hadn’t spoken to Dumbledore properly since going to his office, other than the occasional passing in the hallways, and echoes of their conversation about Draco and following his heart started ringing in Harry’s ears. He took a moment to collect himself, but as usual, the headmaster remained patient. 

 

“Hi professor.” He managed to say at last, trying his best to force a smile. 

 

Dumbledore was studying Harry very closely, his blue eyes completely clear of emotions, nothing but the polite smile on his face giving away anything. “You’re looking rather lost, Harry.” He said. 

 

“Oh, no, I was just walking.” Harry said quickly, “I’m not lost.”

 

“Quite.” Agreed Dumbledore, “I was referring to your eyes.”

 

Harry had the sudden desire to squeeze his eyes shut but thought that might have been a little odd, so instead he tried to laugh. It came out incredibly dead and monotone. 

 

“Would you like to come up to my office, Harry?” 

 

That was the last thing Harry wanted, he would probably just get more weird love quotes thrown at him which was really not high on his wish list, but he felt it would be very rude to say no. Hesitating for only a second on the spot, he nodded wordlessly and followed Dumbledore’s gesturing hand, leading the way up the spiralling staircase. Once in the office, he waited until Dumbledore was sat down behind his desk before taking the empty seat across from him. 

 

“Would you like some tea, Harry?” The older wizard asked, “Or perhaps a butterbeer? Pumpkin juice?”

 

“I’m okay, thanks.” Harry muttered, not mentioning the fact that he had barely eaten or drank for days now - he just didn’t feel the desire to. 

 

Still smiling, Dumbledore waved his wand and a teapot, two teacups and milk and sugar came floating through the air, resting on the desk between them. 

 

“It’s there if you want it.” He said, pouring himself some and adding two cubes of sugar and a dash of milk. 

 

He didn’t say anything as he prepared the drink, stirring it for probably a bit longer than necessary. Harry felt desperately awkward, not really sure what to do or say. The quiet was starting to get too uncomfortable and he went to open his mouth to make up an excuse about having something to do, but he met Dumbledore’s gaze and shut it again. 

 

“Harry, as you know, I feel an… inclination, that I should care for. I feel partially responsible for raising you to become the man you are so close to being.”

 

Harry’s insides seemed to squirm as he did in his seat. He wasn’t in the mood for this sort of conversation, though feeling that made him think of himself as very rude indeed. He decided to just listen, he didn’t have to say anything. 

 

“I’ve noticed you’ve gotten very sad indeed, Harry.” Dumbledore spoke softly, analysing him with those blue eyes, chin resting on his fingertips. “And I want you to know, you are not alone.” 

 

_ Easy for you to say,  _ he thought to himself, and it was almost as if Dumbledore heard, for he looked amused. 

 

“Even if one person is pushing you away, you have many great friends here at Hogwarts. Professor McGonagall has told me all about Miss Granger and Mr Weasley’s desperate attempts to help you. She’s concerned that they’re not preparing themselves enough for their own exams.” He chuckled. 

 

Harry wasn’t looking at him, he was staring at the empty teacup in front of him. 

 

“Harry.” Dumbledore continued to speak, not seeming to care about the lack of responses. “People tend to push people they care about away whey they are afraid of how they are feeling and what that means about them, sometimes it’s shame, sometimes it’s fear that nothing good can come of any of the things they crave so badly.”

 

Him somehow managing to know everything about the goings on at Hogwarts was starting to get very frustrating indeed. Harry kind of wished he could tell him to just keep his nose out of it, but he knew that would probably be quite harsh. 

 

“I ask you Harry, with only your well being in my mind, that you don’t push your friends away. Your feelings are part of you, you don’t need to hide them from your friends.”

 

Harry had definitely been pushing Ron and Hermione away. It wasn’t that he wanted to… he just couldn’t help it. It was just happening. 

 

“And Harry.”

 

Something changed in his tone, something that grabbed Harry’s attention. He looked up and finally met Dumbledore’s gaze properly, seeing the seriousness upon his aged face. 

 

“Mr Malfoy has his reasons for pushing you away. In time, I think the two of you-”

 

“What do you know?” Harry said, the first thing he had said since sitting down. It was quiet, but cold. Cold and vicious. 

 

“I know people.” Dumbledore replied simply, pretending that he didn’t hear any sense of harshness in Harry’s words. “And I know that Draco is a scared, lonely boy.”

 

Harry stared at him. He barely even acknowledged that Draco must be scared, he barely even knew Draco. The one time Draco had been honest about his feelings it had started the unbearable silence. The fact that Dumbledore kept speaking as if he knew everything that Harry and Draco felt angered him.

 

“He doesn’t want to hurt you, Harry. The pain is only a tiny fraction of what life will bring-”

 

Harry couldn’t listen anymore. He didn’t need Dumbledore’s sage words of wisdom. He had tried to listen to it before, he had tried to follow his heart, and just look at how that ended up. No, he didn’t want to hear any of it. He didn’t care, he stood up. He didn’t speak, just turned and started to leave. He heard Dumbledore sigh, a very sad, heavy sigh. 

 

“Don’t let this hold you back from the full potential you have, Harry.” he said. “I have faith that you can do very well in this task. Don’t let lovesickness cause you any more setbacks.”

 

Harry stopped on the spot for a second, letting the words register and settle in his brain. He knew he would want them later. 

 

“Thank you professor.” He said, no gratitude in his heart at all, before leaving the room; and continuing to walk the halls, setting off to settle into more of his lonely hearted silence. 

 

*********

 

Harry was running through the huge hedges of the maze, he could hear the shouts outside of all the students cheering, booing, chanting… he tried to block it out. He was doing well, shooting down anything that got in his way, anything that tried to hurt him he managed to avoid or just vanish it. His breaths were even, his footsteps were even.

 

He could tell he was getting close to the centre, he was so close, he would be the first one to make it! He was actually going to do it, he was actually going to  _ win _ ! And whoever had entered him into the competition to try and kill him had definitely failed, now he was alive and the winner!

 

So close… 

 

A groan of pain burst from his chest. He was suddenly doubled over, a pain right where his heart should be. Only it wasn’t beating anymore, it sounded like a china plate was smashing into a million pieces - only it was his heart. He could feel it’s jagged pieces splitting off, causing him pain all over. Unable to move, he collapsed to the ground. He managed to tilt his head up, eyes darting around wildly, settling on the Triwizard cup. It was so close! If he could just move… 

 

His view was blocked. Draco was suddenly there. For a second Harry thought he was going to be okay, he started to smile. But then Draco’s face turned as cold as ice, and he lifted a blade. Before Harry even registered what was happening, it came right down into his chest. He couldn’t even scream the pain was so bad, and Draco was just sniggering. Harry didn’t care anymore, he didn’t care that the pain was excruciating, he was attempting to wriggle towards the cup. But it wasn’t there anymore. 

 

Draco vanished too. Everything and everyone vanished, even the hedges. He was alone in complete darkness, and he was losing consciousness. All he could see were the pieces of his heart strewn about carelessly. His broken heart had left him lonely, and he had failed the tournament. He had failed. 

 

***********

 

Harry woke with a start. Thankfully everyone else was snoring soundly, so nobody had noticed him writhing around, and none of them could see him with tears streaming down his cheeks. He gasped, lifting a hand to his chest as if to check his heart was still beating. It had felt so real, the nightmare had been so vivid, it was like the pain was still there. He knew he couldn’t go back to sleep, but he lay back down anyway, not daring to shut his eyes incase more visions came to him. 

 

He was trying to work out what it could possibly mean, and he didn’t have to try that hard. Draco had broken his heart and made him fail everything. He had taken everything away from him. He hadn’t even had Ron and Hermione anymore. Even after he had been awake for ages, it was still plaguing him. He still felt sick. He had felt so… defeated. 

 

The task was two days away now. That alone was enough to bring yet another wave of countless new anxieties and fears. He couldn’t let that happen, he had no choice but to compete and if that same thing happened… he didn’t know what to do. 

 

Even hours later, when the sun was beginning to rise, he was panting with exhaustion as if he was still running the maze. Being the only one awake, listening to the sounds of the fellow Gryffindor’s sleeping, a realisation dawned on him. 

 

He really wasn’t alone. Dumbledore was right, as always. 

 

He couldn’t let a broken heart stop him from trying his best, he couldn’t fail this task. He couldn’t let everyone down. Hagrid, Gryffindor, Hogwarts, Sirius, Ron, Hermione, Dumbledore, Moody, the Weasleys - so many people who were rooting for him. He couldn’t fail them. He just couldn’t. They had been there for him a lot longer than Draco Malfoy had been. 

 

He had to stop being so pathetic. He told himself that, he told himself he had to grow up, he had to ignore the searing pain in his heart. He had to try. He had to do what he did best - he had to survive. And he would. 

 

It was obvious that he wasn’t going to be getting anymore sleep any time soon, and as it was a Saturday, it was very unlikely that anyone would be getting up for hours. Stifling a yawn, Harry clambered out of his bed, it felt good to leave it after lying awake for so long and letting his thoughts run wild. After he had gotten changed, he picked up the stack of books that Hermione had tried for so long to get him to read so that he had all the key survival skills and spells perfectly revised, he stuffed his wand into the pockets of his robes, and tiptoed out of the dorm. He went downstairs and was unsurprised to find the common room perfectly empty, the rising sunbeams shining through the windows. 

 

The lack of sleep wasn’t even making him tired anymore, he had something to focus on. He had his mission, his goal - to win the task. 

  
  
  


Hermione was always one of the first ones awake, and she was therefore the first person to see Harry in the common room as she came down the stairs. He didn’t even notice at first, he was practicing a spell that would trap your target in a bubble, practicing it on a fly. It had been very difficult to start of with as it was hard to get the fly to actually fly at him, but he had been doing it for ages by the time she got there, and she beamed with pleasure as he sealed it away perfectly.

 

“Wow, Harry!” She said in greeting, and he turned to look at her. 

 

He smiled, and it wasn’t even forced. “I don’t know what’s been up with me for the past few weeks [ a flat out lie, he knew very well what it was] but you’re right, Hermione. I need to be prepared. I’m going to get through this task if it kills me.”

 

“Well getting through it would be the opposite of killing you… but I appeciate the figure of speech. This is so great Harry, what else have you learnt?”

 

He showed her all of the jinxes he had managed to teach himself, and then quickly went through the majority of things he already knew, all the things he could do without having to need a target. She told him it was too early for him to stun her, she would need to have some breakfast first. Soon people were beginning to head down to breakfast, so they went as well. Ron eventually joined them, and he was very pleased with Harry’s new mindset of determination. They made a list of all the things they had to learn still, and things he had to go over again. 

 

“We have to cram this all into one day.” Hermione said, so we better get started as soon as possible.”

 

They breakfasted very quickly after they had made the list, before setting off to find a classroom to practice in. Harry felt better than he had done in over a month, he was finally able to focus, he finally had the perfect distraction. He just hoped he was working hard enough for it to actually be any sort of success. They spent all day going through as much things as humanly possible, Harry stopped things in mid air, he perfected his stunning jinx, he managed to master a deflecting spell. By the time dinner came around, they were all so exhausted that their stomachs seemed to be roaring, demanding food and energy right away. Harry sat down opposite the other two, wolfing down his mashed potato and sausages. He started to become very aware of Hermione quite clearly wanting to say something, and it was bugging him the amount of times she started then abruptly trailed off. 

 

“What’s wrong?” He asked her. 

 

She exchanged a glance with Ron, still continuing to hesitate, Harry told her to spit it out. 

 

“I was just wondering what brought this on.” She said timidly. 

 

She always seemed timid with Harry lately, and he felt more guilt surging through him. He had been so snappy recently that his best friends felt the need to be careful in case he bit their heads right off. Harry frowned, “The task is two days away. That’s what brought this on.”

 

“Yes, but…” She was being very careful. “Well. For the past few days,  _ weeks _ , you’ve been so distant and - and seemed so miserable. And now all of a sudden you’re completely normal again.” 

 

Harry resisted the urge to shut his eyes and bang his head on the table, he knew there was no avoiding any of it. They had noticed his weird behaviour, and he was pretty certain soon they would be figuring out he was completely heartbroken. Her reminding him of said behaviour momentarily halted his determination and he returned to being filled with longing. He looked over at the Slytherin table, he couldn’t help it. But Draco wasn’t there. He frowned, his gaze lingering on the empty seat where he should be sat, before looking back to Hermione. 

 

“I just want you to know you can talk to us, Harry.” Hermione said. “Whatever was bothering you - you can tell us.”

 

Ron nodded, and Harry stared at them. The were so caring. They genuinely just wanted the best for him, and they wouldn’t end their friendship if they knew the truth. They would be shocked, maybe slightly repulsed - and they would be hurt that he had kept it a secret for so long. There was nobody around them, nobody could hear. He could easily tell them everything, explain it, and assure them that they had no reason to worry as it was definitely over by now. The consideration was nibbling at his mind, it felt as if his brain was completely giving way now. He was so close to letting the words spill out - but just then he saw Draco come through the doors. He watched him walk over to the Slytherin table with his head bowed, he looked very downspirited indeed. Seeing him made Harry reevaluate the situation entirely. Gulping down the revelation that had been so keen on the tip of his tongue, he shook his head. 

 

“Nothing was bothering me.” He lied, knowing full well that neither of them would buy it. “Just nerves.”

 

He knew they weren’t about to let it drop, so he decided he had to get out as fast as he could, he couldn’t risk them discovering any of it. 

 

“I’m going to go to the library while you finish your food,” he said suddenly, getting to his feet. 

 

“But-”

 

“I’ll see you back in the classroom.” He said, ignoring their looks of merging confusion and irritation.

 

He was keeping something from them, and it was only a matter of time until they found out. 

 

He was just delaying the inevitable, but he couldn’t help it. He couldn’t bear what would happen when the secret got out. Just thinking about it made his skin crawl. 

 

**********

 

Harry woke up on the morning of the final task a lot more nervous than he had been feeling for the past few days. Ron and Hermione had exams so they couldn’t help him practice, and he felt too nervous to even try and attempt to do anything alone. After breakfast he spent a couple of hours in the library, reading piles and piles of books in desperate hope that going over all the theories would make the spells better stuck in his head, but he was trying too hard not to throw up to really take any of it in. Time was going by way too fast, the hour at which he had to go and meet the other champions was approaching a lot sooner than he would have liked. He wasn’t sure if he wanted it to hurry and get it over and done with, or if he would rather just delay it for as long as possible, even if that meant weeks of the stress. He couldn’t decide on anything, couldn’t work out if he was hungry or not, if he wanted to sit or stand. He was just relieved when lunchtime came around so he didn’t have to be alone anymore. Meeting Ron and Hermione in the great hall, he was grateful to have something that worked as some kind of distraction. What didn’t really help, though, was them stressing just as much as he was. 

 

“Whoever put your name in the goblet of fire has really shot themselves in the foot the past two times, I mean, you barely even got injured.” Hermione was saying as she buttered a jacket potato, “But we never know, they could be planning something tonight.”

 

“Very tactful, Hermione.” Ron said with a roll of his eyes and a nudge, “Don’t scare the bloke. They probably just hoped that he would drown in the lake knowing he can’t sleep.” He looked at Harry seriously, “Look, I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

 

Unfortunately, Harry wasn’t quite so sure. Biting at the skin of his lip, he barely even realised it was starting to hurt - they would probably be completely skinless by the time he finally got to bed later. He moaned a little wistfully at the thought of bed, and tried to take comfort in the fact that by the time he finally got back there, back to his dorm, all of this would be over. No more Triwizard tournament. He then tried to convince himself he didn’t even care if he came last place, though that wasn’t particularly true. He hadn’t crammed as much hard work into the space of three days just so that he could come last place. No, he had worked hard, he deserved that trophy just as much as the others did. 

 

*********

 

The feast was due to start in half an hour. Harry didn’t know where Ron and Hermione were, he had thought they would be back from their exams by now, but they weren’t. Trying to steady his breaths, Harry paced the common room, ignoring the curious stares of the small group of Gryffindor’s who sat nearby watching him closely. The amount of stares he usually got was already big enough, but over the past few days it had increased an even more impossible amount. Pulling his wand out of his robes, he practiced a few swift movements of spells he had found slightly more difficult, not actually uttering the words so that nothing would happen. He just needed to be certain of the basic logistics. He thought again about his bed upstairs, only now he wasn’t thinking of it so hopefully. He was starting to wonder if he would ever make it back alive, it would be just his luck if he got a couple of steps away from the trophy and dropped dead without any known cause. 

 

The clock was ticking and he decided he could no longer wait for them, besides, they might have just forgotten they were meant to be meeting him before they went down to the great hall. He didn’t like the thought of entering the room, there had been a lot more competition recently between the different schools. He tried not to involve himself, but that didn’t mean Gryffindor weren’t showing off as much as they could in front of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, even Hufflepuff. 

 

Making his way down to the feast, Harry was somewhat pleased to find that there was practically nobody in the hallways, though this also made him less willing to go into the great hall. He wasn’t even hungry anymore, he couldn’t stomach anything. If he tried to eat, he wasn’t sure if it would actually stay down. He was right, Hermione and Ron were waiting outside the Great Hall for him, looking very worried indeed. When they saw him they breathed audible sighs of relief and Hermione practically sprinted over to him. 

 

“I was starting to think you’d done a runner, mate.” Ron said. 

 

“Where have you been?” Hermione demanded, crossing her arms angrily. 

 

“I thought I was meeting you upstairs!” He said, deciding it best to answer Hermione first or else she would probably smack him or something. He met Ron’s eyes, and saw that his best friend was trying his hardest to look cheerful, though honestly he looked almost as terrified as Harry felt. “Run away and miss this fun?” 

 

It wasn’t intended to be funny, but Ron gave a very weak, forced laugh before nodding his head towards the great hall. “Shall we go in then?”

 

Harry started to say yes, but they were interrupted. 

 

“Potter.” 

 

“What does he want?” Hermione hissed, turning to look at Draco Malfoy as he stalked his way across the floor towards them. 

 

Harry wanted to know just as badly, Draco hadn’t spoken to him or even looked at him once since the night on the astronomy tower, and now he was starting up again when they weren’t even alive? Frustrated, Harry glowered at the Slytherin boy, this was really the last thing he needed before the task. They all turned to meet Draco as he neared them, that familiar expression on his face, similar to a grimace.

 

“Can we talk?” Draco asked, voice even and measured. Harry hated that he sounded so collected, because he himself was trembling all over. “ _ Alone _ ?”

 

Hermione and Ron looked at Harry, eyebrows raised in question. He just nodded, barely looking at them as they exchanged glances and walked off, leaving Harry alone with Malfoy. Draco waited until they were definitely inside to even show any sort of emotion, eyes darting around to make sure nobody else was approaching. Once he was sure, his mask slipped and his skin seemed to go a lot paler, his eyes wider. 

 

“I just-” he started to say, but then shook his head, frustrated. 

 

“What do you want, Malfoy?” Harry said harshly. He didn’t think he would ever forgive Draco for being the first boy to ever shatter his heart into a million pieces. A  _ Slytherin,  _ and not just that, but a  _ Malfoy _ . It was humiliating. 

 

“I just wanted to say good luck.” Draco replied, sheepish. 

 

Harry sort of wanted to laugh. They spoke once in five weeks, and that one time was Draco  _ dumping  _ him, and now he came to wish Harry luck before possibly walking straight into his death. There was something more there too, though, it looked like there was more Draco wanted to say. But then his face fell and his lips pressed very firmly together. 

 

“That it?” Harry asked bluntly. 

 

Pain flashed in Draco’s grey eyes, but Harry didn’t even notice, he was trying hard not to. His fists were balled up tightly in his pockets and his pulsing heart was racing to measures completely off the charts, he had never felt quite so afraid. He wouldn’t let that show, though, not in front of Draco Malfoy. 

 

He nodded his head, staring at Harry with now completely emotionless eyes. 

 

“Thanks.” Harry said, voice dripping with sarcasm, before turning and leaving Malfoy alone in the middle of the entry way. 

 

**********

 

After sitting through the feast whilst everyone else ate, Harry had to say goodbye to Ron and Hermione. They stopped in the middle of the throng of students rushing out to the stalls to watch, facing one another, Harry on one side, the other two together. They were silent, just looking at each other with eyes that said all they needed to. 

 

Trembling, Harry’s knees knocked, his fingers shook, his stomach fluttered like it was ready to just shoot straight up his throat and out of his mouth. His skin was sweaty, his robes clung to his body stickily. He couldn’t even speak, all he could do was nod at them. Both his best friends were scared for him too, they were all bracing themselves for the worst, but none of them wanted to say anything. Not caring that they were stood in the way, Hermione shook her head and hurled herself at Harry, throwing her arms around him. She sniffed as if she might be crying, and then turned without letting him see her face. They left Harry wordlessly, and Ron put his arm comfortingly around her. That made Harry have to look away. He knew there was something going on between them, but he didn’t want to know.  It just made him jealous, it made him long for Draco even more.

 

_ I just wanted to say good luck.  _ Malfoy’s words were still ringing around his head. Wishing it had gone differently, Harry just kept thinking about the interaction over and over and over again, wishing that he had hugged him. Wishing that he had felt his kind and tender touch just once, the kind that Draco reserved for Harry and for Harry only. He thought he might feel a whole lot safer if he had. But that would never have happened. Even if they were still seeing one another, it would still be in secret. They wouldn’t have hugged, they wouldn’t have kissed, not standing there for everyone to see. Harry shook his head, frustrated with himself. 

 

It was not the time to be worrying about Malfoy. It was time to worry about this stupid, evil maze, the game of life or death. 

 

**********

 

From then on, everything seemed like one big blur. The words that everybody spoke to Harry just felt like a buzz, and time seemed to be frozen and speeding way above time limits all at once. It was like the events of the evening were whooshing on by and Harry just stood still as a statue, watching it all go by. He didn’t say a word or even look at any of the other champions, when Ludo Bagman asked him questions he did nothing but nod, didn’t even hear the words. Dumbledore was with him, seeming to understand that it was no use attempting to interact with him. They all walked out in a line of the castle, making their way across to what used to be the Quidditch pitch. The maze seemed a whole lot bigger, a lot more daunting. Standing in front of it, Harry barely even seemed to realise that there was a magnificent crowd of people before him, cheering and shouting even louder than they did at Quidditch matches. Looking up at them was too difficult, the lights of the arena shone too brightly and hurt his eyes. 

 

Seeing the maze seemed to bring him slightly back to earth though. He knew what he had to do at least, and his absence in the world and in the conversations being had all channeled into his determination: to win the tournament. 

 

Soon, Bagman magnified his voice to silence the crowd, he explained what was going on. Dumbledore made a speech. The crowded started once more. And then it was time. Time to win. Harry and Cedric were to enter the maze together as they got a head start for being in joint first place after their success in the first two tasks. Harry positioned himself at his entrance, and Moody managed to catch his attention. He looked over, and saw very faintly that he pointed to the left. Harry thanked him with a nod, making a mental note to go left first. 

  
Then the horn sounded. Cedric disappeared at Harry’s side, vanishing into the hedges. Harry turned around too, and as he did, he managed to ignore the blinding light and looked at the stalls in which the Slytherins were seated. Draco was nowhere to be seen. He closed his eyes as he entered the maze, wanting to see that empty seat no more. Then, he entered the maze.


	11. master reborn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the final part of this chapter is copied quite closely from the actual book, Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. that part belongs completely to j.k. rowling and I in no way try to take any responsibility for those words!

Harry’s previous nerves and terrified muteness seemed to disappear along with the noise of the audience outside of the maze. Finally alone again, Harry was fuelled by nothing but his single minded resolution - to complete the task. He stared around him, seeing nothing but darkness, the lack of light shadowing the hedges and the grass beneath his feet. Gripping his wand, Harry remembered the way Moody had pointed. He muttered a quick  _ lumos  _ under his breath and the tip of his wand lit up, a nice bright light now shone on his path. Turning left, Harry started to walk. 

 

He continued just going wherever he felt was the right way to go, and for a while he didn’t come across anything. He was starting to think Moody had somehow directed him down a straight path that had no obstacles whatsoever - though that was a very thoughtless thought indeed. He felt it before he saw it - a cold chill tingled down his spine. Turning on the spot, Harry’s eyes came to rest on a Dementor gliding towards him. 

 

Twelve feet tall, it’s face hidden by its hood, it’s rotting, scabbed hands out-stretched, it advanced, sensing its way blindly towards him. Harry could hear it’s hideous, rattling breaths, he felt the impending doom and coldness washing over him in once, horrible wave. For a moment, it was easy for him to let the fear take over, he cowered back slightly, remembering how the Dementors had all but tortured him for all of one year. But then he remembered, the incantation was nagging at his mind, and almost without even realising he was doing it, Harry lifted his wand and bellowed, “ _ Expecto Patronum! _ ”

 

The familiar silvery stag came shooting from the tip of his wand, galloping grandly over to the Dementor - and the Dementor  _ stumbled,  _ seeming to trip over it’s robes. 

 

“You’re not a Dementor!” Harry cried, the realisation washing over him. The stag seemed to realise this with him, and disappeared, no longer needing to protect him. It took Harry a moment to gather his recollection, but then he thought about Professor Lupin teaching them about Boggarts - one of your greatest fears coming at you. 

 

“ _ Riddikulus!”  _ he said, waving his wand once more - he had a fond memory of seeing Snape dressed in the clothes of Neville’s grandma. The Dementor exploded with a loud sound similar to the cracking of a whip, and Harry was alone once more. He looked left and right, and then remembered Hermione showing him a great way at navigating around mazes. 

 

Holding his wand out flat on his outstretched palm, Harry muttered “ _ Point me _ .” His wand spun around very quickly before coming to a halt, pointing right. Harry nodded, keeping his wand out as he turned right. And so he went on, coming across many interruptions as he followed the instructions of his wand. There was a Blast Ended-Skrewt that seemed rather keen to get a bite out of him, a banshee with a riddle for him, massive spiders (though not as big as Hagrid’s friend Aragog and his horrific family), a gaggle of Cornish Pixies that seemed to like pulling hair. All of them, Harry managed to get past. He was feeling very pleased with himself, and it was almost as if he could sense the trophy, he could feel it just in his fingertips. He was jogging through the hedges now, setting through the maze at a measured rate. Suddenly though, he froze on the spot. He heard a scream, it sounded an awful lot like Fleur. Harry figured she was just being attacked by a Skrewt or something, but then he heard her speak too rapidly for him to even understand the actual words. He realised it was something weird, though, when he heard Viktor Krum shouting at her. Krum could be scary when he wanted to be - and Harry knew of the rumors that Durmstrang was known for teaching their students how to carry out horrible, dark magic. Following the path of the sound, Harry sped up to a sprint, trying desperately to locate them. He was definitely getting closer - only Fleur had been silent for a while now. As he continued to frantically make his way, he heard another voice join Krum. 

 

“What do you think you’re doing?!” 

 

It was Cedric he had heard too. Harry wondered if he should leave it and return to just focusing on the trophy, but then he heard something that completely horrified him. 

 

“Crucio!” Krum bellowed, and Cedric cried out in pain. 

 

Feeling more scared than he had done for the entire task, Harry sped up even more. Eventually he rounded the corner, thankfully he had come up behind Krum and he was unnoticed. Fleur was lying on the floor, though she definitely wasn’t dead, probably stunned. Cedric was lying on the floor, writhing in anguish, shrieking. It was awful to watch, ten times worse than seeing it done on a spider like Moody had done. 

 

“Stupefy!” Harry barked, pointing his wand at the back of Krum’s head. Cedric instantly went limp as Krum fell to the floor, and Harry ran to help him up. 

 

“You alright?” He asked. 

 

“Yeah,” Cedric gasped, scrabbling to his feet and wiping his brow. He glared at Krum’s motionless figure with disgust. 

 

“I thought he was alright.” Harry said, also grimacing at the sight of Viktor. “I can’t believe Hermione actually went out with him.”

 

“No.” Cedric agreed, and they both stood quietly, processing their new found hatred for Viktor Krum. It felt like they had done something together, it felt like Hogwarts were working together - but now both Fleur and Krum were out. It was just the two of them left. 

 

“Well.” Cedric said after a while, straightening out, and then grinning. “Thanks for helping me, Harry.” 

 

It was sort of shocking, Cedric Diggory could have the unforgivable torture curse put on him, and still manage to smile. A week ago that would have made Harry hate him, but now he didn’t see him as competition quite so much. Of course, he wanted to win, but… if it was a Hogwarts win, he wouldn’t mind quite so much. They shook hands, and then Cedric continued off at a jog. Harry was once again alone. 

 

He had managed to memorise the way he had came and went back, taking all of the same forks. He came across another Boggart, but this time he knew immediately that it wasn’t a real dementor and took it down with an easy wave of his wand. When Harry turned left around another corner, his eyes widened. It was another skrewt, this one a lot bigger than the first one he had seen. But… he felt his heart grow wings and start to soar. Behind it, the Triwizard cup shone brightly, huge and silver against the dim darkness. Staring back at the Skrewt with utmost terror, Harry knew that there was no way he could squeeze past it. And then, added horror, as he saw Cedric come running into view from a fork up ahead. He was going to get there first - though a huge spider seemed to be approaching him, he’d have to take that down first. 

 

They were both so close, yet so far. 

 

The Skrewt was getting closer and closer. It really was hideous, he shook his head, despairing at the fact that Hagrid could possibly want to keep these things alive and healthy. This one was at least 10 feet long, it’s huge stinger had never looked so lethal, curved over it’s back and waving around, aimed directly at Harry. He had to duck to miss it, and as he got back to his feet he tried to stun it. 

 

“Stupefy!” Harry screamed desperately, looking up to see Cedric was so close to getting the spider to back off, his heart was racing. He couldn’t get this close and not make it, he just couldn’t! 

 

“Impedimenta!” he tried, but nothing happened, it just ricocheted off of the beast’s armoured shell. Harry tried to remember something,  _ anything,  _ that Hagrid had taught them about defending themselves from the monsters, but of course, he was just interested in caring for them. Though there was  _ something… _

 

Their shells only cover their  _ backs _ ! Harry remembered. If he hit it in the underbelly with the jinx, it would hit it no problem. Waiting until it was the right moment, Harry stayed ducked down on the floor, hoping with all his might that this worked, otherwise he would be done for. The Skrewt was so close to him now, it could easily sting him. 

 

“IMPEDIMENTA!” he roared a second time, aiming his wand at the shell-less, slimy underbelly. 

 

Thankfully, it worked, and the disgusting creature remained frozen on the spot. Having only ten seconds until it started again, Harry got to his feet and raced down the path. Only, there was a spider blocking his way, attacking Cedric. The only thing he could do was to help Cedric fight it, and then hope that he managed to get in front of him to run. 

 

“Impedimenta!” He said again, at the exact same time a beam of light shone from Cedric’s wand too, hitting the spider. The strength of both of them didn’t freeze it, but it made it topple over onto it’s back, sickening legs in the air, it’s belly exposed. 

 

“Stupey!” He heard Cedric shout, but he didn’t care, the spider was out of the way and Harry was sprinting as fast as his legs could carry him towards the cup. Even though he had started racing first, Cedric was closer and had much longer legs. Not giving up, Harry didn’t care that his heart was pumping so fast it made his chest burn and ache, his pants were so heavy that they wheezed a little. And then - 

 

“CEDRIC! On your left!” 

 

The hedges seemed to be alive, a huge stick of leaves suddenly erupted to life, it was swooping down to wrap around Cedric’s body, lifting him into the air. He screamed, he was so high now that everyone in the audience could probably see him writhing around in the sky. 

 

“Relashio!” Harry’s wand fired at the branch, and there was a loud  _ thud  _ as it released it’s hold, Cedric fell right down onto the ground and took a moment, rubbing at his arm and head. Tempted to run and grab the trophy, whilst he recovered, Harry noticed Cedric was no longer rushing and he started to feel guilty. Instead he walked to stand beside Cedric as he rose to his feet. They were both unsure, looking at each other and then to the cup. 

 

“What are you doing?” Cedric asked, looking at Harry as if he was crazy. “Grab it! You win.” He smiled, and it didn’t even look forced. 

 

“I-” Harry started to say but he didn’t really know what to say, so instead just shook his head. 

 

Taking a big breath, Cedric said, “It’s yours.”

 

“No, it’s  _ yours _ .” Harry insisted, the trophy’s light seemed to pulse. 

 

“You’ve saved my neck twice in here.” Cedric said, “And if you hadn’t saved me just now, you would have got the trophy. Go on, it’s only fair.” 

 

“Cedric, I  _ can’t _ .” Harry tried to say, but he could tell that the Hufflepuff boy was staying true to his word. He really was the nicest boy Harry had ever met, as much as he hadn’t liked him earlier in the year for dating Cho. He didn’t care about that anymore, though, so he could just acknowledge the fact Cedric was truly selfless and  _ kind _ . 

 

“Yes, you  _ can _ .” Cedric said. “You’ve saved my twice, and you warned me about the dragons before! Go on, Harry, just take it and this’ll be finished!” 

 

Harry shook his head, starting to get frustrated now. He wanted the trophy, but now he didn’t want to be the one to take it. It would make him feel incredibly selfish. “I had help with that. And you warned me about the egg.”

 

“It was only fair.” Cedric said with a shrug. 

 

“Exactly. So go on, stop being so noble and just take the trophy!” Harry said irritably. 

 

“No!” Cedric snapped, he wasn’t budging on his decision. 

 

Trying his hardest not to groan, starting to get crabby by how good of a person Cedric was. It was hard when your competition was such a great person. If this was Harry vs Viktor Krum, he would have no problem taking the trophy. But… he looked at the trophy to Cedric. He thought about it, he thought about how hard he had worked, he thought about how pleased everybody would be. The  _ honour _ …. 

 

“Both of us.” He said at last. 

 

“Both of us what?” Cedric asked dumbly - though he definitely knew, he just couldn’t really believe Harry was saying so. 

 

“Both of us take the trophy.”

 

Reluctantly, Cedric nodded his head. “Alright.”

 

They walked forwards slowly, staying right in line with each other, neither one really wanting to be the first one there. At last they stood right in front of it. It was shining a white light, and it was magnificent, easily taller than each of them were. They stared up at it in awe. 

 

“Together?” Cedric asked. 

 

“Together.” Harry agreed. “3….”

 

“2…”

 

“1.” 

 

He and Cedric both grasped onto a handle each - and instantly, Harry felt a jerk around his navel. Just like when they had both travelled to the Quidditch World Cup together, Cedric and Harry were once again being transported, being pulled along in a howl of bursting colours and noises. 

 

********

 

The boys landed with a huge thud, rolling around on the floor gracelessly. Once the ground stopped seeming to shake, Harry managed to get to his feet and look around. At first he thought it must be an additional part of the task - but they stood alone, no more task. It was deserted - a deserted graveyard. 

 

“Cedric…” Harry started to say slowly, but Cedric wasn’t listening to him, he had gone over and started marvelling at the cup. 

 

“It was a portkey!” He said excitedly. “But what do we do now?”

 

“No idea.” Harry murmured, he had the strange feeling that they weren’t alone, the eyes of the eerie darkness staring straight back at him as he revolved around on the spot, taking in everything he saw. 

 

“Did you have any idea?” Cedric asked. 

 

“Nope.” 

 

At his shaking tone, Cedric finally seemed to realise something was definitely wrong and got to his feet as well, moving to stand at Harry’s side again. They wordlessly pulled their wands out, holding them tightly, prepared. 

 

“Someone’s coming.” Harry said suddenly, panicked and frantic. “Get back to the cup!” 

 

But they were too late. Whoever it was, they were getting very near. Harry couldn’t see a face, but they were walking steadily through the graves, calm. Squinting, Harry saw that whoever it was was very short and they wore a cloak, and it looked as if they were carrying something. They were moving slowly but Harry knew it was no use trying to get away, they wouldn’t make it. Somehow in the darkness, he managed to make out as the figure got closer that it wasn’t a  _ thing  _ they were carrying, it looked like… like a baby? Frowning, Harry chanced a sideways glance at Cedric, seeing that Cedric was none the wiser. 

 

Uncertainly, they lowered their wands ever so slightly. The figure had stopped nearby, face still concealed. Harry stared back at them. Then he felt a jolt of fear, lifting his wand straight back up, wanting desperately to stun them but knowing if they were holding a baby, that would be very wrong indeed. 

 

And then, as if from very far away, a piercingly high pitched voice hissed, “ _ Kill the spare. _ ”

 

Before either of the boys could do anything, a single flash of bright green light cracked through the haunted air, a voice screeched “ _ Avada Kedavra!”  _ into the night. 

 

The green was almost blinding, Harry couldn’t really see anything, and he braced himself. But nothing hit him, and he heard something heavy fall, thudding to the ground next to him. 

 

Cedric Diggory was dead.

 

Harry turned to look at him, not making a noise. He wanted to cry out but he couldn’t, he was completely frozen. He stared down into Cedric’s now completely motionless face. His eyes were open and empty, the grey completely deserted like the windows of a long ago abandoned house, his mouth was half open as if he had been about to scream. Just as Harry’s heart and stomach started to fall, his numb disbelief was interrupted by somebody grabbing at him. He didn’t even have it in him to fight back, he just felt as he was shoved up against something stony. He didn’t know how it moved, they were definitely in a Muggle graveyard, but he felt the stone of the statue encase itself around his neck, and he was trapped there. 

 

It was still dark, but the figure had taken it’s hood down as it approached Harry. It was  _ Wormtail _ . And he was pushing something, a huge heavy stone cauldron, placing it in front of Harry. 

 

“You.” Harry tried to speak, though it came out in a soundless gasp. 

 

Ignoring him, Wormtail went back to the supposed baby he left resting on the floor, leaning up against one of the graves carelessly. He picked it up, cradling it like it was incredibly precious. Then he returned to the cauldron. He pulled the little scrap of fabric that had been wrapped around it, and lifted it up into the light of the starlit sky. Harry saw it was definitely not a baby, it was like a fleshless  _ creature _ , dripping in filthy, brown, mud like liquid. Then, Wormtail let it slip from his fingers and into the cauldron, it made a sizzling sound. 

 

“What is it?” Harry asked stupidly, knowing full well he wouldn’t get an answer, but he was ragged now, unaware of anything other than the actions of the old rat. 

 

Wormtail pulled out his wand and lifted it at one of the graves. Harry followed the path of it’s spell, staring at the grave and trying desperately to make out what it said, it proved to be difficult as his glasses were dirty from when he fell onto the mud. Somehow, he managed to make it out.

 

TOM RIDDLE

 

His heart jerked, and his breaths grew more and more out of control. He wriggled, but it was no use, he couldn’t move. The soil before the grave seemed to shift, and then a single bone protruded from the dirt. It soared through the sky, hovering for a second above the cauldron, right in front of Harry’s face, before plunging into it. He heard another sizzling sound.

 

“Bone of the father unwillingly given,” Wormtail spoke for the first time, he sounded like a greedy old beggar, “You will renew your son.”

 

Harry heard the words, he already knew what was going on. But he wouldn’t believe it, he couldn’t.  _ Tom Riddle…  _ had that been the name of his father too? That was the grave of Voldemort’s father, he just knew it. Slowly, his eyes trailed back to come to rest on Wormtail, and he wished he hadn’t. The servant had his arm suspended in the air, and he was whimpering with fright. Then, he pulled a long, shined dagger from inside his robes. 

 

His voice broken into petrified sobs. “Flesh of the servant, w-willingly given - you will revive your master!”

 

He stretched his right hand, his four out of five fingers flexed. He gripped the dagger very tightly in his left hand, and swung it upwards. Harry wished he could squeeze his eyes shut but he couldn’t bring himself to have his eyes closed for a second too long. He had no choice but to watch as Wormtail sliced his hand clean off. The man screamed out, crying in sheer and utter pain as his hand fell into the steaming liquid. It started to shine more silvery, the sickening splash of liquid that held the manky creature in - and now a bone and a hand.

 

Bile rose in Harry’s throat, and then he saw the old best friend of his dad getting closer to him. Wormtail’s ugly little face showed no recognition whatsoever, it just looked at the blade he had wiped clean of his own blood, a sharp silvery shining knife that glistened in the moonlight. At least they were kind enough to stop Harry from getting infected, he thought to himself with bitter amusement.  Peter’s other hand grabbed Harry’s wrist, wrapping filth coated nails around his skin. The blade pierced Harry’s arm, long and deeply, and blood dripped freely onto the ground and all down Harry’s clothes. He let out a groan of pain, and Wormtail grinned nastily. 

 

Harshly, he yanked at Harry’s arm and the blood now dripped into the cauldron - there was lots of it, all bursting from Harry’s arm at a very alarming rate. 

 

“Blood of the enemy… forcibly taken….” Wormtail spoke slowly, watching in wonder as the liquid bubbled more and more ferociously, “You will resurrect your foe.”

 

The cauldron began to simmer, Wormtail fell to his knees now that his job was over, holding onto his completely handless arm and shaking with pain, but he was practically silent now, watching the cauldron with marvel on his face. 

 

_ Let it have drowned  _ Harry pleaded desperately, he couldn’t even think about the pain in his arm, the way the stone dug too hard into his throat making it difficult to breathe, he just braced himself for what was to come. But no. 

 

Suddenly, the sparks emitting from the cauldron were distinguished. It was silent. And then a huge puffing cloud of white smoke billowed thickly from the cauldron, obliterating everything from Harry’s view. He could no longer see anything at all but the smoke, he couldn’t see Cedric’s body or Wormtail, he couldn’t see any graves. Silently praying that it had gone wrong, that it hadn’t worked, Harry fought the urge to cry. 

 

Through the icy steam, he saw the dark outline of a man, tall and skeletally thin, rising slowly from inside the cauldron. 

 

“Robe me.” Said the high, cold voice from behind the steam. 

 

Sobbing and moaning, still cradling his mutilated arm, Wormtail scrambled to pick up the black fobes from the ground, got to his feet, reached up, and pulled them one handed over his master’s head. 

 

The thin man stepped out of the cauldron, staring at Harry… and Harry started back into the face that had haunted his nightmares for three years. Whiter than a skull, with wide, livid scarlet eyes, and a nose that was  as flat as a snake’s, with slits for nostrils… 

 

Lord Voldemort had risen again. 

  
  
  
  
  



	12. false accusations

Harry watched in horror and utter disgust as Lord Voldemort examined his body. He felt it, his hands feeling at his legs, his arms, his head, his face. Feeling himself and the new body he had been given. The body he didn’t deserve, the life he shouldn’t have had. He couldn’t really believe it. It was the real Voldemort, he wasn’t just a head underneath a turban. He had his full power again. Harry knew before anything had to be said - he was going to die. 

 

He couldn’t even try to get away, he just had to stand frozen, locked in a steely grip. Voldemort took no notice of Wormtail, he took no notice of his dirty great snake slithering threateningly around the statue holding Harry tight. The slow, unnatural actions of Voldemort made Harry increasingly uneasy. He watched as Voldemort said coldly, “My wand, Wormtail.”

 

He didn’t so much as glance at the servant, just held out a long fingered, bony hand. Once he had his wand, Voldemort laughed, the hauntingly eerie laugh that made Harry want to throw up. Then, turning his scarlet stare on Wormtail, he pointed his wand at him too. He threw his honouring servant high into the air, and then he fell with a painful, bone shattering bump, leaning up against one of the headstones. Voldemort laughed, amused. Wormtail scrambled up again, gasping in pain. 

 

“My lord… my lord, you promised-”

 

“Hold out your arm.” Voldemort cut him off coldly. 

 

“Yes, my lord, thank you, my lord!” Wormtail rushed back over with his right arm held out, desperate and begging. 

 

“Your other arm.” 

 

Looking confused, Wormtail didn’t question it. He lowered his armless arm and held up his left one instead. Voldemort smiled. It was a dead smile, a mocking smile, it was probably the most terrifying thing that the monster could do. With the skeleton like hand, Voldemort carelessly shoved up Pettigrew’s sleeve, revealing a mark. Harry remembered Karkaroff showing Snape his left arm too, a while ago, saying something was wrong with it. It was a mark like a skeleton and a snake, it looked like a tattoo of sorts - it was the dark mark.  _ His  _ mark, Harry distantly remembered Hermione telling him. 

 

The signs had been there since the Quidditch world cup, but now it was the reality. Voldemort really was back. And he was going to kill Harry. 

 

Unable to tear his aghast eyes from Voldemort and everything he did, Harry watched as he lifted one of his ghostly white fingers and pressed it hard into Wormtail’s mark. Just as he did so, Harry felt a searing pain in the scar on his forehead, even worse than the pains he had when he had nightmares about it. Nightmares about the planning of this very moment. 

 

“Let’s see who is brave enough to show up.” Voldemort said with that piercing voice, and he laughed as he watched Harry writhe about it pain. 

 

In no time at all, the air filled approaching cloaks, soaring through the sky. They all landed in huge puffs of black smoke. In every shadowy space between the graves, there stood a cloaked and masked figure. They were all silent and still at first, it looked as if they were staring at the person before them. Then one of them stumbled forwards, falling instantly to his knees and kissing the hem of Voldemort’s robes, right where it trailed against the muddy ground.

 

“Master.” He murmured, his voice full of admiration. 

 

They all followed, copying the first man’s actions, and Voldemort watched with contentment as they did so. Harry watched it all happen, his eyes never once losing the wide terror. When he heard one voice, it made his heart freeze in the process of thudding for a second. He would recognise that voice anywhere - it was Lucius Malfoy. 

 

Draco’s father. He had come to watch it all happen… he was the last Malfoy Harry would ever see. He was never going to see Draco again. He remembered suddenly, Draco seeming like he wanted to tell him something earlier, it had looked like he was warning him. His guts twisted. Had Draco known this was going to happen?

 

Voldemort had started talking, but Harry couldn’t bring himself to listen. He didn’t care about whatever horrible things they had to say, he didn’t want to know. If he was here to die, he wanted his last moments to be filled with something worthwhile. Squeezing his eyes shut, he tried to fill his head with every happy moment he could. He tried to avoid any that included Draco, he felt so betrayed. His heart was breaking all over again. It was no use, he couldn’t think of anything, but at least he was drowning out the words. It was too soon, even though he’d been there trapped for ages now, when all of the Death Eaters turned their attention to Harry. 

 

Voldemort was grinning, malicious, the devilish red eyes glinting through the darkness of the night sky.  “Yes.” He said, “Harry Potter has so kindly joined my rebirthing party. In fact, he was here first.”

 

It was quiet, and then he shot his crowd of follower a look, and they erupted into applause, the sounds of spooky death eater laughter echoed across the yard. 

 

“And the first thing I’m going to do with my new power, my power greater than anything that has ever before graced this earth,” Voldemort continued, “Is to kill the boy who destroyed me thirteen years ago.”

 

Without any warning, the stone scraping roughly against the soft skin of Harry’s neck seemed to vanish, and the young boy fell to his knees in front of Voldemort. The death eaters all laughed again, Harry felt the heat of humiliation flooding to his cheeks. Head bowed, he got to his feet. 

 

“Yes, good boy.” Voldemort sneered, and then not letting his eyes leave Harry once, he ordered Wormtail to give him his wand. 

 

Peter Pettigrew, one of the marauders, one of the best friends of Harry’s parents, carelessly thrust Harry’s wand into his hand, he had barely even realised he had dropped it. There was no point in him having a wand, Harry knew - he was no match for the Dark Lord. 

 

“You have been taught to duel, I assume?” Voldemort asked, he was teasing, reminding Harry how young and inexperienced he was. 

 

Harry vaguely remembered the Duelling club that had been set up in second year, the one time he had attended, Draco had set a snake on him and he’d revealed to the entire year that he could speak parseltongue. Thankfully Voldemort didn’t wait for an answer, because words seemed like toxic poison to Harry’s tongue, whenever they came they just singed back away, he couldn’t speak the words he wanted so badly to. He just glared at Voldemort. Malfoy stood right over his shoulder, just the sight of him alone made Harry’s rage boil to surface. 

 

“Well, Harry.” Voldemort said, sounding as if he was just thoughtfully teaching him a few wizarding tips. “First, boy, you bow.” 

 

He did it himself, bending forward the tiniest fraction, leaving his slitted eyes fixed on Harry, never letting the red gaze leave. He didn’t even  _ blink _ . 

 

“I said bow.” Voldemort hissed. 

 

Harry wouldn’t do it. No, he wouldn’t be a simple play thing for Voldemort before he had his life taken away. Maybe he was too afraid to fight back, but he wouldn’t let himself be ordered around - or so he had hoped, anyway. 

 

“ _ Bow!” _ Voldemort screeched, lifting his wand. 

 

Before Harry could even think of attempting to fend the incoming imperius curse off of him, he felt his spine curve and he was forced to bow, staring straight at the ground. The curse hit him so hard that he stumbled as he straightened back up, and the death eaters all cackled. 

 

“Very good.” Voldemort said, voice returning to it’s menacing softness. “And now, we duel.”

 

Without even realising that he had lifted his wand again, Harry collapsed to the floor as Voldemort cursed him once more. The cruciatus curse was washing over him, the worst pain he had ever felt in his life. It took over everything, consumed his body whole in a searing flame of agony felt like a million white hot knives slicing through him at once. He screamed, he couldn’t help it, he didn’t ever hear the chorus of hooting laughter. Eventually it stopped, and the jeering returned to Harry’s ears. 

 

“A little break, how’s that sound, Harry?” Voldemort said. “Tell us, how did that feel? How does it feel to get what you deserve from Lord Voldemort?  _ Tell us _ .”

 

He was trying to hit Harry with the imperius again, but somehow Harry managed to block it. As Voldemort tried to get him to speak, to stick to the script he had planned out, Harry shook his head. He meant to speak mentally, but he shouted out, “I WON’T!” 

 

“You won’t?” Voldemort echoed him, the outrage clear. “Harry, you really should learn to respect your elders. I think another lesson of pain will do it.”

 

He lifted his wand, but just in time Harry flew to his feet. He darted to cower behind one of the huge gravestones, managing to avoid the beam of light that erupted from Voldemort’s wand. He heard cries of outrage and what sounded like footsteps, but there was another flash and they abruptly came to a stop. 

 

“No!” Voldemort yelled, “The boy is mine to finish!”

 

There was silence. Everyone was watching to see what Voldemort would do next, Harry squeezed his eyes shut. He still felt slightly numb from the pain and shock, he hit his head against the stone as he tried to hammer some sense into him. He couldn’t hide here forever. He had to try and fight back, he couldn’t die simply. That would be a cowardly way to go. He wasn’t a Slytherin - he was a Gryffindor. He was better than all these people.  

 

“Harry, this isn’t a game of hide and seek.” Voldemort’s screeching shout came. “Come out, come out, wherever you are… don’t make me come looking.”

 

Harry’s whole body shook. He couldn’t believe he had been nervous about the maze, this was the most terror he had ever had to endure. He had to go out there… eyes shut again, he inhaled and exhaled three times deeply. He didn’t bother listening to the sounds of the death eaters, the sound of Voldemort teasing. Shaking his head, he moved away from the safety behind the gravestone. He walked back out with his head held high. He ignored the quaking of his shoes, he ignored the sweat on his palms as he gripped as tightly onto his wand as he could. He stopped. He stared at Voldemort right in the eyes. 

 

_ I’m not afraid _ , he told himself. It was a lie, but he knew all he had to do was believe it. He just had to force it on himself. 

 

Voldemort lifted his wand. He threw his arm back with manic force, and pointed it at Harry. But this time, Harry was prepared. He did the first thing he could think of, waving his wand frantically and screaming with all the might in his lungs, “EXPELLIARMUS!” 

He was well aware of more laughter, Voldemort had tried to torture him and he just did one of the basic, second year hexes - but they stopped laughing just as fast. Something happened that had never happened before, not that Harry knew of, anyway; the streaks of light shooting from their wands met in the middle of their duelling ground.  It was like a golden thread, and it was shining, it was all Harry could see - the shining gold and the blazing red eyes of Voldemort. They were wide, surprised and shocked, just as much as Harry was. The air was filled with a beautiful, heavenly sound, it sounded like angels singing. And then, from a ball of the thread in between them, the centre of it all, more strings of it seemed to twine out, all in opposite directions. 

 

It wasn’t just more threads though - at the end of each one, there was a silvery figure, almost ghost like but not. Harry stared at them all as they came, gradual. The first one was Cedric, his torso first, the rest of him joining, eventually his head. Harry gasped, staring up at him astonishment. 

 

“Harry,” his voice said, so clear, and it sounded like his but also sort of angelic. “Take my body back, will you? Take my body back to my parents.”

 

Harry didn’t know what to do, he nodded. The music was taking away his terror, it was refilling his body with something like hope. Eyes darting back to Voldemort, he realised that he saw nothing that Harry did. It looked almost as if he was frozen, everything had frozen for Harry. Then he turned his attention to some of the other figures. 

 

“MUM!” He cried, astounded. “DAD?” 

 

They looked at him, their eyes caring, smiling at him. More people were joining, and they all seemed to be shouting at him, telling him not to let go of his wand or the connection would break, telling him to fight Voldemort, telling him they could do it. It was all people Voldemort had killed. He didn’t look at them, though, tears were falling freely down his face as stared at his parents. 

 

“Harry, you’re doing so well.” He heard his mother’s voice for the first time that he could remember. “ _ So well _ . We love you so much, Harry.”

 

“Harry,” his dad joined her, “Harry, when the connection breaks, we will linger only for a moment, you must get back to the portkey! Run, as fast as you can!”

 

Harry could no longer speak, he was frantically nodding his head, sobs escaping him, he couldn’t help it. He was saved, they had saved him. He wished he could say more, he wished he could speak to them, he wished he could apologise to Cedric, and that he could tell his mum and dad that he loved them, that they could hear it just once. 

 

Then his mother spoke again. “Don’t be afraid, Harry. Don’t be afraid of your love.”

 

Harry frowned a little. It didn’t sound like she was telling him not to be afraid in the moment.  _ Don’t be afraid of your love.  _

 

“Sweetheart you’re ready!” She shouted then, “Let go!”

 

“Run, Harry, you can do it! Be ready to run!” His dad chimed in. 

 

Harry didn’t want to let go, he didn’t want to leave them. But he knew he had no choice. Staring at them for only a second longer, he broke the connection, his wand lowering. The bright light was still there, and he remembered Cedric’s request. Racing over to him, he held tightly onto him, and then glanced around wildly, looking for the portkey. 

 

“Accio trophy!” He said, and it came soaring towards him, shining the silvery light portkeys emitted when they were ready to be used. 

 

He heard Voldemort shouting, demanding somebody to grab him, but it was too late. Harry was gone, escaping the hell of the graveyard. He was surrounded by more colours and howling, and against the bursts of it he finally saw Cedric again. He was dead. Dead because of him. They were swirling all over the place and… 

 

The minute they landed, the crowd cheered. They were back at Hogwarts. A trumpet blasting celebratory music sounded. Harry didn’t look up them, he was just staring in utter horror at Cedric’s face. He was still holding tightly onto him, cradling him in his arms. Harry started to sob, and Dumbledore appeared at his shoulder. People were talking, he heard the hurried whispers of staff, and then somebody screamed. A piercing scream, it silenced everything. 

 

“A boy has been killed.” Someone muttered. 

 

Harry didn’t care, he didn’t care how it looked. His tears were drenching Cedric’s Hufflepuff champion shirt, he blocked out the noise. He ignored all the pain and the aches he felt. Still holding Cedric, he looked up at Dumbledore, who kneeled before him. 

 

“He’s back.” He sobbed, “Voldemort’s back.” 

 

**********

 

Draco waited anxiously. He was probably the only person still in the castle. He had meant to go down to the task, but he couldn’t bear it. The thought of having to sit with everyone, not knowing whether or not Harry was safe, it would have driven him completely crazy. It had been hours by that point, surely it would be over by now? But the finale music had started to play, he hadn’t heard any roars of glee. He just knew something was wrong. He didn’t know what. 

 

He had wanted to kiss Harry earlier. Wanted to hug him. Wanted to apologise for ending things, explain why he didn’t. But he got too scared, and he had said that phony  _ good luck _ . If that was the last thing he ever said to him… he would never forgive himself. His heart ached with longing and terror. 

 

If Harry died, Draco would kill himself. The thought of being without him made him feel sick. He had thought we was doing the right thing by ending it, by subjecting himself to a life of loneliness and utter misery. Unable to control his frustration at not knowing anything any longer, Draco picked up the nearest thing he could get his hands on - a glass- and threw it up at the painting of Salazar Slytherin that looked down on the common room. There was a horrible smashing sound and shards of it scattered across the room. 

 

“What have I done?” Draco whispered, thinking over how sad he had been recently without Harry. How miserable Harry had looked… the expression on his face when Harry ended it, that was all Draco saw when he closed his eyes. And that was the last proper memory he would ever get. 

 

Harry was gone, he knew it. It felt as if his heart had stopped beating, and he knew what that meant. His heart would never beat for anyone again. They hadn’t even gotten to fall in love properly… it would haunt him forever. 

 

“I love you.” He whispered, wishing with his whole being that he could say those words to Harry out loud. 

 

**********

 

Harry sat opposite Dumbledore. He was exhausted, his tears wouldn’t even fall anymore, he had cried too much. The headmaster had informed him of Mad-Eye Moody actually being Barty Crouch Jnr using polyjuice potion, it had started to slip away just as Harry had returned to Hogwarts with Cedric, and he had been dealt with accordingly. He couldn’t even bring himself to care, though, he didn’t care to know why any of it had happened. He just wanted to go to bed. He just wanted to sleep forever so the pain would stop. Still, Harry had been made to go over his account of everything that had happened in the graveyard countless amounts of times now, each time with a lot less detail and a lot more blatant frustration. 

 

He had been to the hospital wing and been given medicine, his cut had been bandaged up, but that wasn’t the pain that needed to be attended to. He needed something for the guilt, he needed something to take away the memories, he needed something to take away the intense betrayal that he felt. He knew Draco had known. What else could he have possibly wanted to tell him? And he had had the chance to tell him as well, and he chose not to. He had betrayed Harry, he had sent him right to his own slaughter. He would never forgive him. Eventually, Dumbledore told Harry he could go. 

 

Leaving the headmaster’s office without saying a single word, Harry moved down the staircase with agonising slowness. Everything seemed slow, he felt like everything had frozen. He couldn’t make sense of anything, a lot of it felt like a distant daydream. The gold light, seeing his parents, Cedric Diggory dead. But it wasn’t a daydream. Cedric definitely wasn’t dead. Harry had cradled his cold, lifeless body. He had watched as Amos Diggory screamed and howled, sobbing his entire heart out, begging Cedric to wake up. 

 

When he reached the bottom of the stairs, Harry froze. Draco was sat on the ground with his knees pulled up to his chest, leaning against the wall. As soon as he heard footsteps, he glanced up and clambered to his feet. His skin had never looked so shockingly white, he looked terrified, his grey eyes frenzied. His hair was a mess too, the first time Harry had ever seen it out of it’s perfectly gelled formation. 

 

“Harry!” He moaned, shaking his head, squeezing his eyes as if holding back tears. “I don’t believe it, I was so sure you were dead!”

 

He hurried to stand close to him, closer than he had ever got when somebody could so easily walk past. He was actually crying, he was breathless, he looked exhausted as he spoke in a rush. 

 

“I’m so sorry for everything, Harry, I can’t believe it, I never wanted to hurt you.” He said desperately, “Not talking to you, it was absolute hell, oh god, I don’t know what I would ever do without you. I thought you were  _ dead _ , I wanted to-” 

 

He broke off, noticing that Harry hadn’t said a single word or even looked at him. He just stared straight ahead. 

 

For a second, Draco just looked at him, frowning a little. 

 

“Harry?” He asked tentatively, and he reached out a hand, their fingers brushed for the first time in forever. 

 

That did it for Harry, he fell out of his trance and yanked his hand away as if Draco’s touch burnt. He rounded on Draco, fixing him with a hate filled glare.

 

“Don’t pretend you care.” Harry said, his voice low, coated in detestment. “You knew that was going to happen, you  _ knew,  _ and you didn’t even warn me?” 

 

Shaking his head, Draco stared at Harry, not even bothering to brush away the tears that fell, well aware that somebody could easily walk past at any second. “Harry, no, I-” 

 

“Your  _ dad  _ was there, Draco, do you really think I’m stupid enough to believe that you had no idea?” 

 

His voice just got louder and louder, everything cascading from him, there was nothing he could do to stop the storm of fury inside. Looking at Draco’s sorrowful eyes, it made him feel sick. It was all an act, it made his blood boil. 

 

“Harry, I swear to you on my life that I had no clue this was going to happen, I don’t even  _ know  _ what happened!”

 

“Spare me the bullshit, Draco!” Harry spat. 

 

He wanted to hex him, he wanted to  _ kill  _ him, he wanted to make him pay for what happened. If Draco had just told Harry what he knew, none of it would have happened. Cedric would still be alive, Voldemort wouldn’t be backed. 

 

“Harry.” Draco said again, it was barely even audible, the pleading way he spoke Harry’s name. 

 

“You’re nothing but the son of a cowardly, cruel,  _ evil  _ death eater and I wish you were dead.” 

 

Draco looked as if he had been slapped. His eyes were blood red from all his sobbing and he was shaking his head in disbelief as he backed up against the wall again. He stared at Harry like he had never seen him before. 

 

“Have a nice Summer.” Harry told him, the venom on his tongue as he spoke ice cold. 

 

He stared at Draco. He wished he was wrong, he wished Draco was telling the truth. He wished he could kiss him like he had so craved for so long, he wished he could hold him. He wished Draco would wrap his arms around him and soothe him as he mourned the friend he could have saved. But he wouldn’t listen to lies. He knew the truth. Even if was the truth that made the last tiny part of his heart that was left shatter once more, he couldn’t ignore what he knew. He had to replace the love he hid inside with hate. 

 

He stalked off down the hall. 

 

“Harry…” He heard Draco’s soft, begging voice. 

 

He ignored it. 

 

******

 

It was later than he had realised when he finally got back to the common room. Surprisingly (but very thankfully) the room was deserted, other than Ron and Hermione. He hadn’t seen them properly at all since they had gone off to watch the task, and now that he finally saw them, he broke down immediately. They rushed over to him, Hermione took his hand and led him over to one of the sofas. They all three sat together. Nobody spoke. 

 

Harry sobbed, loud, heartbreaking, completely raw sobs. His throat felt like it had been scraped a million times by sandpaper, every bawling cry scratching it roughly. Hermione was crying too, silent tears, as she stroked his mess of black hair, the only thing she could think of to soothe him. Ron didn’t know what to do, but he was there. 

 

He cried and cried and cried until the sun came up. Though he could only tell them half the reason. Draco Malfoy was a secret that would never come out. 

  
He was a traitor - and Harry hated his guts. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope this chapter was okay!


	13. heading home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i apolgoise about a couple of things: firstly, this chapter isn't as well written as it could be, and secondly; it's kind of a filler chapter. I hope it's okay, sorry it's not great. the next one will be a lot better!

Harry sat alone on the swingset in the park of Little Whinging. The air was hot and sticky, clinging to his skin to his great discomfort. He went there every day, all day, doing nothing, just sat. It was the only place he could go to escape the walls of the house he shared with the Dursley’s. He had never felt more miserable. Ron and Hermione sent him owls but he couldn’t bring himself to write back most of the time - he was shutting the world out. Shutting everything out was the only way his mind could be somewhat at peace… the only way the images that replayed in every single nightmare would leave him alone when he was awake. Images of Cedric Diggory lying, stone cold and dead, on the ground, images of Voldemort coming back from the dead, images of Draco Malfoy’s face. There was only so much he could shut out, he couldn’t seem to get rid of the pain he felt every single time he thought of Draco. He had never felt quite so  _ betrayed _ , never in his life felt more heartbroken. 

 

Not speaking to him had been bad enough but the fact that Draco had  _ known  _ what was going to happen that night and not think to warn him? He had promised Harry with all his heart that he knew nothing, and part of Harry believed him. He just had to remember how worried and how sorry Draco had looked, how white his already unusually pale skin had been - the pain on his face when Harry had told him he hated him. Still, Harry shoved the voice that whispered in his head telling him to believe Draco aside. Though he wouldn’t ever admit it to himself, the reason Harry was so adamant that Draco was to blame, was that he didn’t want to have to accept the fact that it was partly his fault, as well. In his head, he saw Draco’s face. He just couldn’t stop it, he couldn’t stop thinking about him, as hard as he tried. They hadn’t spoken since Harry told him he hated him. They had seen each other once or twice around school and then again on the Hogwarts express, but every time they avoided eye contact completely. 

 

“Stop it.” Harry ordered himself angrily, a little boy who had just slid down the nearby slide looked at him with mild curiosity. “Stop thinking about him. He’s not worth your time of day!”

 

“Mummy, is that boy mad?” The boy asked the woman who was waiting for him at the bottom of the slide. “He’s talking to himself.”

 

“Shh, Eddie.” the woman said in a hushed voice, shooting Harry an apologetic glance. She picked her child up and he wrapped his legs around her, his arms around her neck. She held him tight, and it made Harry’s heart ache even more. 

 

He wondered if his mother had ever held him like that. With the nightmares came the memory of her and his father talking to him, telling him to run to the portkey, telling them how well he had done. Telling him to not be afraid of his love. It shouldn’t have been a nightmare but it was, because behind them Harry could just see Voldemort. Life was just too cruel. He had never felt so alone, so utterly alone and miserable. Every small thing was just a reminder of what he didn’t have. Something so simple as seeing a mother carrying her child made him want to burst into a fit of tears. He wished so badly he had gotten to say more to them, when they had appeared in the graveyard. There were so many people he wished he could speak to. Draco was on that list. No matter how many times Harry erased his name, it just kept coming back. Draco Malfoy had scarred him just like the lightning bolt on his head.

 

Eventually it started to get later, and Harry had to leave the park. Not because he’d be in trouble if he was late home, the Dursley’s probably wouldn’t have even noticed, but because they would lock the door and forget he was still out. They wouldn’t give him a key, he’d end up sleeping on the streets. Maybe that wouldn’t be so bad. It was only a couple more weeks until he had to go back to school, and for the first time ever he was dreading it. The memories the halls held, the people he would have to see. The stares he would still be getting. It made the nerves in his body tremble so much he thought he would just throw up. 

 

He really was living a miserable life. He hated it. He didn’t care for living it. He probably wouldn’t mind that much if he dropped dead, he thought to himself glumly.

 

*******

 

Once Harry had showered, he went back into his bedroom and noticed immediately that there was another owl on the windowsill. It made him feel guilty, he had gotten many owls in the four weeks of being back at the Dursley's house, and he had only replied to about three of them. It wasn’t even intentional, he just couldn’t bring himself to focus on writing. He didn’t even know what to say. Nothing interesting had happened, nothing at all exciting - there was nothing to tell. He felt as dull as a slice of brown bread, what was the point in putting anything like that in writing? Still, he took the letter from the owl’s beak and let it drink from Hedwig’s water tray before flying away. As he read the words, he found himself very confused over what to feel. Should he have been glad? He definitely should have been glad. It was from Remus, saying that someone would be arriving to collect him to take him to Grimmauld place the following day. Usually, Harry’s heart would have soared at the news that he got to escape Privet Drive weeks early and be reunited with his friends from the wizarding world. Now, though, it was nearly impossible for him to feel any sense of happiness. The thought of being forced to socialise with people just hurt his head, and he didn’t even know what on earth Grimmauld place was. Heaving a sigh, he folded the parchment up and dumped it on his desk. 

 

That night, Harry couldn’t sleep. His mind just wouldn’t allow him to - when he had nothing to distract himself, he just kept thinking about bloody Malfoy. He wanted so badly to be cuddled up to him in bed right now, that would make all his sorrows melt away. He was just imagining how it would feel - Draco’s arm looped around his waist as they spoon each other, bodies close together. He was imagining he could feel Malfoy’s heart beating against him. He was thinking of how he missed the kisses, the way Malfoy liked to mark Harry’s skin with lovebite and he did a charm which made it so nobody could see them but himself and Harry. He liked being able to see that Harry was definitely  _ his _ . But… he couldn’t think like that. 

 

Something deep down inside of Harry was trying to convince him to crave Malfoy, something was attempting to twist his heart this way and that. Draco was a traitor. He  _ was _ , Harry just couldn’t explain it any other way. Why else had he been acting so weird? It had to be the truth. It just had to be. As his thoughts continued to go over the same thoughts that they looped in his head night after night, Harry just grew more and more frustrated. There was nothing he could do, absolutely nothing that could serve as some kind of distraction. He had reluctantly packed his trunk, and anything that could possibly interest him was locked away. Letting his newfound temper get the better of him, Harry clamped a pillow over his head, using it to muffle the scream of rage that he couldn’t hold in anymore. Once he was finished, it was still absolutely silent. Even Hedwig hadn’t stirred. As usual, Harry felt completely alone in the universe. 

 

********

 

Harry didn’t even tell his Aunt and Uncle that he was meant to be leaving, and he knew for a fact that they wouldn’t care. When he got up the next morning, he found that the house was completely deserted, they had gone on another family day trip without him. The sleepless nights of the Summer had made it so Harry didn’t wake until the early hours of the afternoon, and they left him to it. Usually he would lazily get dressed and leave the house to go and sit in the park, not even caring enough to fill his hollow stomach with food. That day, though, he couldn’t - he had to wait. He didn’t know who was showing up to collect him, and he had no clue when. All he knew was he wasn’t particularly looking forward to it. That fact alone was enough to infuriate him. His entire head was messed up, all of his thoughts and feelings were the wrong way round. Everything was completely muddled up and he was sick of it. Harry tried to take advantage of the fact that he had the house to himself, it was one of the rare occasions that he could go into the living room and watch TV, and eat any of the food in the kitchen that he wanted. As usual, though, he no longer had the appetite for anything. Watching TV didn’t feel right either, he no longer laughed at the funny bits, or cried at the sad bits. He couldn’t engage in anything. 

 

After sitting on the sofa, staring at the screen whilst none of the events actually processed in his mind for hours, there was a knock at the door. It made him jump, it was a very loud rapping of knuckles. Taking his time, he moved through the house to see who he was to be travelling with. It took him a second to even register that there were multiple people, he blinked around at the crowd of faces standing on the doorstep. Most he recognised: Lupin, the auror Kingsley Shacklebolt who he had seen in the news, and- 

 

“Professor Moody?” He asked, slightly startled to see the same scarred face that had supposedly been the one to put his name in the goblet of fire the previous year. 

 

“The real one.” The wizard replied gruffly, “Introductions in a minute. We need cover.”

 

Barty Crouch Jr. had done a great job at pretending to be Mad-Eye, he acted exactly as Harry remembered. The thought of how he had been locked away for a year, his hairs being torn off and bottled in flasks upon flasks of polyjuice potion was enough to make Harry shudder. Ignoring the look of concern Lupin had fixed on him, Harry stepped aside and assured the way in. The group all went and made their way down the hallway into the kitchen. Having closed and bolted the door (under Moody’s watchful glare and his insistence of ‘constant vigilance’) and followed them through.  There was only one person Harry had no clue who they were whatsoever, she had bubblegum pink hair and looked young and very friendly; she was sat on the countertop and had just knocked over a mug tree, she bit her lip anxiously as Remus cleared it all up for her - and she shot him a very doey eyed look indeed. Kingsley was stood by the back door, his big arms folded across his chest. 

 

“Harry, I’m Kingsley Shacklebolt-”

 

“The best auror there is!” the pink haired lady said, nodding at Harry with reassurance, Harry nodded back uncertainly, not really sure why he needed the best auror that there was to come with them. 

 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Kingsley finished, smiling at the witch. His voice was deep and velvet, layered with authority. 

 

“You too.” Harry mumbled.

 

“I’m Tonks.” The witch introduced herself with a big grin, swinging her legs. 

 

Harry could tell that he liked her, even though she definitely had the playful, childish vibe to her. Slightly ditzy, but clearly quite capable of magic, or else she probably wouldn’t have been with the group of escorts. 

 

“Hi.” Harry said, another nod. 

 

He wasn’t used to being surrounded by people, he had spent so long on his own, he was slightly dazed - also very confused. He didn’t know how to ask why they were all there without seeming rude, so he waited for Moody to explain instead. 

 

“We don’t have lots of time, we’ve got to get on the move.” Moody started, glaring around the room at everybody as if they had done something wrong. “You know the drill, fly through the clouds, I don’t give a rats arse if you get wet! It’s for all of our safety, we need cover. We get to Headquarters, and we’ll explain everything there, Potter.”

 

“Why do we need cover?” Harry asked with a frown, looking to the friendliest face of all for answers, but Remus didn’t get a chance to speak. 

 

“We’ll explain everything at headquarters.”

 

“Headquarters?” Harry tried, staring at everyone, completely baffled. 

 

“No time.” Moody snapped gruffly. “You got your things? And you’ll need your broom. I’ve heard you’re a good flier?”

 

Harry stared at him again - Moody had been the one to tell him to use his broomstick to get past the dragon back in the first task, and now he was asking if he was a good flier. Then Harry felt slightly sick, he avoided thinking about the tournament as best as he could. It just made him think of-

 

He stopped himself, he couldn’t start having a breakdown in front of everyone. Blankly, he nodded his head, but Moody looked around the room with his eyebrows raised. 

 

“Uh- they’re upstairs.”

 

Very well aware of how eager Moody was to leave, Harry didn’t wait for anyone to prompt him before leaving the room and sprinting upstairs. He managed to haul the trunk and Hedwig downstairs, broom very inconveniently placed under his arm. He wasn’t really sure how he was going to carry them whilst flying, but Tonks sorted that for him. She did a charm that made it so it would fly with him, never once leaving his side. He was slightly wary, the way she held her wand unnerved him, her hand was all over the place. It did the trick though, and Harry wasn’t about to complain. 

 

“Okay, Harry?” Remus asked him, smiling kindly. 

 

_ Not really,  _ Harry wanted to say. He was feeling incredibly anxious, completely fazed out of whatever was happening - he couldn’t really function properly, it felt like. He’d forgotten about being in the wizarding world, he’d blocked it out because he didn’t want the memories. Cedric, the tournament, Voldemort, Death Eaters,  _ Draco _ , it all made him freak out very much. Instead, he nodded his head. Moody was still barking plans at him, but Harry couldn’t really take in any of it. He just wanted the answers to his questions. 

 

“Just stay close to us,” Tonks whispered, seeming to sense that he wasn’t catching us. “Whatever happens, don’t break ranks.” 

 

“And the middle of the group.” Lupin added, “That’s why we’re all here - protection. Stay in the middle.”

 

Protection. Harry didn’t like the sound of that at all. He wished they would just tell him everything now, he couldn’t stand the thought of flying without a single clue, his head felt like it was about to fall off with the weight of confusion and unanswered questions. They went out onto the lawn, all standing in a line, Harry locked the house up. He wondered what the neighbours would think if they saw what was going on. Just as he was wondering that, Moody approached him with his wand out. 

 

“What-”

 

“Protection spell.” The auror said, “It’ll make you pretty much translucent.” 

 

Harry didn’t question it, just felt a strange rippling sensation go over his body. Then, they all mounted their broomsticks, Moody counted down, and just like that, they were flying again. 

 

Harry hadn’t flown in so long. He’d forgotten how much he missed it. As soon as he was high up in the sky, focused only on the location (though he didn’t know the location, so he focused instead on Moody in front of him) he felt like he was free. It was as if everything that had been building up over the summer melted off of him - he was completely weightless. A huge part of him wanted to just break ranks and start doing loops, whooping for joy that he finally felt some kind of  _ happiness _ ; although he had a feeling that wouldn’t impress Moody. Or any of them, maybe Tonks. 

 

As Moody had told them to, they went through lots of clouds. Harry hadn’t ever done that before, and he didn’t like it. He felt freezing cold and he was pretty sure his clothes were completely sodden, though somehow he didn’t feel the dampness as they were travelling so fast, the wind nibbling at his cheeks. As Harry looked down for just a second, he remembered what it had felt like. 

 

He remembered first year, all he had cared about was learning magic and going to Hogwarts, it had been the most wonderful year of his life. He had made great friends in Ron and Hermione, Draco Malfoy had been nothing but the slimy little Slytherin who he hated. Back then everything was so much easier. Now he had been tortured by Voldemort, seen one of his friends die, had his heart broken a million times by the same stupid boy. Soaring over the streets, seeing the glowing lamps and the muggles who didn’t notice the group of wizards flying up above - he felt just like that, just like he had done all those years ago. He felt careless. The others were shouting directions, but he was only just hearing them. He was grinning too hard to hear properly. 

 

The weight returned all too soon. They touched down to the ground and Harry hopped off of his broom - he no longer felt weightless, but the flying had definitely been good for him. The dread, the complete and utter misery that had been plaguing him - it had lifted ever so slightly. He was smiling again. His heart was fluttering with love for magic - the hatred that had somehow settled towards it had quickly been banished. Still grinning, Harry watched, completely wordless as the others were all deadly silent, as Mad-Eye pulled out a walking stick. They were all facing a row of houses, and there was a street sign right by them-  _ Grimmauld Place _ . 

 

Mood-Eye then took the stick, and he banged it three times on the ground. For a second, nothing happened, Harry glanced around at everyone to see what had gone wrong. However, none of them looked worried, and then there was a jarring noise that sounded something like bricks being scraped together. Two of the houses in the middle of the street were  _ moving _ . Harry had never seen magic like it, he couldn’t help but gasp. After being away from magic for so long, the smallest thing would have fascinated him, so a moving house was definitely shocking. 

 

“What about the muggles?” He whispered to Remus. 

 

He smiled, “They don’t know a thing - look.” He pointed to the window of the neighbouring house, through which they could see the lights of a television and a couple sat on the sofa. They just sat staring at the screen, completely oblivious. 

 

“Here it is.” Mad-Eye said, and he actually smiled at Harry. It was sort of startling, but Harry smiled back. Then he looked up at the house that had materialised before them. 

 

“Twelve Grimmauld Place.” Tonks whispered, nudging Harry lightly. “Order of the Phoenix HQ.” 

 

*********

 

When they got inside, it was still completely silent, none of them talking in anything more than a whisper. 

 

“What is-”

 

“Shh!” Mad-Eye hissed, “There’s a meeting going on in there, boy!” 

 

He made his way down the hallway without another word, and Harry went to follow, but Remus put a hand on his shoulder to stop him. Harry couldn’t even attempt to hide his annoyance. 

 

“You said you’d explain!” He protested, trying to keep his voice down but he couldn’t help it when it rose louder. 

 

Just then, the hallway was flooded with light as a door at the very end opened. Mad-Eye was going in it, everyone following. Harry tried again, but he stood still when Mrs Weasley left it, shutting it tightly behind her, blocking out the voices. 

 

“Harry!” She said, and she rushed towards him to wrap him in a tight embrace. Of course, the hug quickly turned to her feeling his arms and sizing him up. “You must be starving you poor boy! Dinner isn’t for another half an hour though so you’ll have to wait.”

 

“What is this place?” Harry said, staring around at the house. It was dark and dreary and incredibly depressing - though it looked like many years ago it had been rather grand. “What’s going on, they said they would explain-”

 

“They will explain at dinner, dear.” Mrs Weasley assured him, but that wasn’t good enough for Harry. He started to protest, but Mrs Weasley acted as if she couldn’t even hear him. 

 

“Upstairs, third room on the left. Ron and Hermione are in there, they’ll catch you up. I have to get back.”

 

She hugged him again, apparently not even noticing how put out he felt. She disappeared back into the room, and Harry was half tempted to just go and listen through the door. He had only been there a couple of minutes and he was already seething again! The joy of magic had not hesitated to leave him again - the world seemed to enjoy his misery. Begrudgingly, he stared at the closed door for only a second longer before making his way slowly up the stairs. He wasn’t looking forward to seeing Ron and Hermione. 

 

It wasn’t that he didn’t love and miss them, they were the best friends anyone could ever ask for - he just felt terrible when he was around them. He was lying to them, they didn’t know anything about some of the worst parts of the last year, and he couldn’t ever tell them. Being with them made him feel jumpy, it made him feel like he could get caught any moment. And this just made him hate himself - he shouldn’t have been keeping anything from them. Friends tell each other everything - or so they should have. Trying not to sigh too loudly so anyone could hear, he followed Mrs Weasley’s instructions, going down the hallway upstairs to the third door. 

 

He pushed it open without knocking, walking in slowly. He didn’t even see anyone or take in anything, just stumbled backwards and Hermione pounced on him, wrapping her arms around his neck. 

 

“Oh Harry!” She breathed, “I’ve missed you so much!”

 

Over her shoulder, Ron gave Harry a nervous sort of smile from where he sat on one of the two beds - Harry had to force himself to return it. 

 

“Yeah,” he said when he could breathe again, Hermione having let him go, “You too.” 

 

There was an awkward silence, Harry was far too aware of his friends analysing him, just as Mrs Weasley had done. Noting the way his eyes sunk into hollow shadows, scars of the sleepless nights, checking how skinny he was, the way his hair was all messed up. Messier than usual, anyway. They probably assumed immediately he had been stressed out and pulling at the tufts of it, rather than it being very windswept from his journey by broomstick. He wished he had just stayed up in the sky, it would be a lot easier than this. Desperate to get them to drop the concern, he gestured to the room. 

 

“What is this place?” Harry asked, sure that they would answer him. 

 

Thankfully, they explained without any assurances of  _ later _ , like all the adults had been doing; completely brushing off Harry’s queries like they were nothing. 

 

“It’s headquarters.” Ron said, “For the Order of the Phoenix.”

 

“What’s-” Harry started, but Hermione provided the answer without needing any more prompt. 

 

“It’s an organisation, a secret one. Dumbledore set it up years ago when- when  _ he  _ was at large. It’s for wizards who want to fight, who oppose You-Know-Who and his Death Eaters. It disbanded for years, but now… well. It’s started again.”

 

“He really is back.” Harry said flatly. Of course, he knew. He’d seen it all happen, he’d watched as Voldemort had risen from the steaming cauldron and shot Cedric down dead, he’d duelled with him. His own  _ blood  _ had been used to resurrect him. Still, the fact that it was definite now, that this  _ protection  _ was needed - it made him uneasy. 

 

“Yeah.” Ron nodded his head thoughtfully, before looking back at Harry. “The thing is…”

 

Suddenly there was a loud  _ pop,  _ Fred and George had appeared out of thin air. 

 

“Oi!” Ron cried, Fred was on his legs. 

 

“Sorry!” Fred said cheerfully, grinning at Harry as he spoke. “Harry! Good to see you.”

 

“Yeah.” Harry said, doing his best to sound truthful as he agreed. 

 

“Whatever you boring old sods were discussing, we aren’t sorry to interrupt.” George said, “We found one of our ears, Mum hid one behind that vase outside the upstairs bathroom.”

 

Frowning, Harry’s eyes flew to both of their heads, suddenly very alarmed that Mrs Weasley had started taking away ears when her children misbehaved. To his relief, though, the twins had all four ears between them. Seemingly amused by the unspoken question on Harry’s face, Fred laughed and held up something that looked like a rubber ear on a string. 

 

“Extendable ears.” He said. 

 

“Now, who wants to go to a meeting?”

 

Hermione said it wasn’t a good idea, but she still followed the boys as they all crowded into the narrow hallway. They held one end of the string between them, and Harry watched as they cautiously lowered the string down down down, over the bannister and down to the door of the kitchen. As there was only one for all of them, they had to hold their heads very close together and strain to hear. It proved to be very difficult to hear any actual words, but there was one voice Harry recognised. 

 

“Sirius!” he realised, feeling a rush of real, completely  _ not  _ forced glee. 

 

“Yeah.” Ron said, “He’s part of the order-”

 

“Shh!” Fred cut him off, hissing angrily. “We can’t hear!”

 

They tried again, but just as they were getting any sort of feedback from the ear, the kitchen door opened. In the shock, Fred dropped the string, and George shoved him. 

 

“Fred, you idiot!”

 

“FRED!” Mrs Weasley roared. “GEORGE!”

 

“Oh no.” George moaned. 

 

Without saying another word, the twins vanished again, there was a sound like a bubble popping. Laughing, Hermione started to lead the way downstairs, it seemed the meeting was over, the door now open and the sound of voices echoing through the house. Harry couldn’t help but notice how everyone here seemed at home. He realised that all of Ron’s stuff had been in that bedroom - so the Weasley’s were actually  _ living  _ in headquarters? There was still so much he didn’t know, he hated being so out of the loop. Following the others into the kitchen, he scanned the room instantly for Sirius. The moment he saw him, he had the sudden urge to cry. Of course, he didn’t, just beamed and ran towards him, and Sirius pulled him in for a hug, clapping him on the shoulder. 

 

“Good to see you, Harry.” Sirius said, his eye twinkling. 

 

“You too.” Harry agreed, “What’s going on?” 

 

Mrs Weasley said that they all get their food before they start talking, and she insisted Harry had the first and largest serving of soup, and he got three whole rolls when everyone else just got one. Being fussed over made him feel slightly uncomfortable - but deep down he liked it. He realised as he sat around the table with everyone how much he had missed being with the Weasley’s. It made him feel slightly more down spirited when Snape entered the room, and he was a little shocked to find him in the Order, but he kept quiet.

 

As they all ate dinner, Mad-Eye explained what the Order was. Harry knew everything now, and Ron had given a much simpler explanation, but he thought it was probably better not to point this out. He just nodded his head a lot as he ate, suddenly ravenous, his appetite came whooshing straight back as soon as he smelled anything Mrs Weasley had cooked. He was listening closely, trying to voice his opinions that much because he had a feeling Mad-Eye wouldn’t like being interrupted. 

 

“-The only problem is, getting people to actually believe The Dark Lord is back.”

 

“Wait, what?” Harry asked with a frown, staring around the room at everyone. “What do you mean  _ getting people to believe? _ I  _ saw  _ him!”

 

Lupin nodded his head, looking very frustrated indeed. “The ministry, they’re scared to admit that he is back. They don’t want it to be true, so they are pretending it isn’t. They’re completely blinded, and they want the entire wizarding world to stay that way.”

 

“But- but it’s true! What do they think happened? Do they think Cedric just dropped dead of his own accord? Do they think  _ I  _ killed him!?” Harry demanded, looking around, completely baffled. 

 

There was an uncomfortable silence at the mention of Cedric, nobody really knew what to say in response. Sirius sighed, “Somebody show him the bloody paper.”

 

Harry was very aware now of everybody watching him, all of them looking as if they were nervously awaiting a mad outburst. Tonks slid a copy of the Daily Prophet along to him, and Harry was sickened when he saw his own face staring back at him - it was a picture taken just after he had got back from the graveyard, his face a mask of shock and utter misery. Tears streamed down his face, and his red eyes were blinking as the flash of a camera startled him. It felt so  _ real _ \- which made the title spread across it even more disgusting. 

 

**HARRY POTTER: YOU-KNOW-WHO SURVIVOR OR ATTENTION SEEKING OAF?**

 

“What?” He gasped, shaking his head in disbelief. “How could they think I’m making this up?” He didn’t want to read the article, he knew it would have him shaking with absolute rage. Furiously, he threw the paper away from him. 

 

“They’ve been attacking Dumbledore as well.” Lupin said, sounding just as angry. 

 

“This is  _ ridiculous _ , who in their right mind could think I’m  _ lying  _ about this? Voldemort is back and if we don’t do something, there’ll be a  _ war _ !” 

 

He ignored the numerous winces as he spoke the name of the Dark Lord. 

 

“Exactly the point, Fudge isn’t in his right mind.” Lupin said, not seeming to care about the use of his name, one of the only ones who didn’t. 

 

“They shouldn’t be spending time printing this rubbish!” Harry couldn’t keep his from getting louder and louder, Ginny had come rushing down, probably hearing his shouting. “They should be printing the list of names I have of death eaters who were in that bloody graveyard! They should be  _ warning  _ people, telling them how to protect themselves!”

 

“You’re absolutely right, Harry.” Sirius agreed, “That should show Lucius Malfoy for who he really is! That hero worshipping article they posted the other day about Death Eaters starting anew-”

 

“Careful, Black.” Snape cut him off, Harry had almost forgotten he was there. “It might start to sound personal.”

 

“Of course it’s personal, Snivellus!” Sirius teased nastily, Harry was now too busy wondering what the hero worshipping article was about - he couldn’t speak anymore. Slowly, he lowered back down into his seat. He had thought about Malfoy, but he hadn’t actually heard his name spoken aloud in weeks. Now he had heard it, and he felt slightly sick again. It had happened so many times he was surprised he hadn’t thrown up yet. 

 

“The fact is, Fudge has appointed Malfoy as some high up job who has a say in things, how are we supposed to  _ trust  _ him? He’s a greasy, good for nothing scumbag who’s probably the one who tried to have my godson  _ killed _ ! So yes, it’s personal!” Sirius raged, glaring at Snape. 

 

Everyone watched it all happen like they would watch a tennis match, heads going this way then that way, this way, that way… 

 

Harry was back in his chair but still felt ready to fall over. Hermione was watching him, concerned. “Harry, are you alright?”

 

“The Malfoy’s aren’t to be trusted, maybe.” Snape said, “But they had no idea The Dark Lord would be returning. There’s no way  _ any of  _ them could have known, other than Crouch’s son and your charming friend,  _ Wormtail _ .” He sneered at the name. 

 

No way any of them could have known. Harry believed that, he had believed it so much. But… the voice in the back of his head, telling him he knew Draco had no clue - now it was screaming, telling him he should have listened. Laughing at him, mocking him. Everyone was speaking, it was getting louder and louder in the little kitchen, Mrs Weasley was trying desperately to calm everyone down. Harry couldn’t take it anymore, he had to get out. Shoving his way past everyone, he made his way out of the room, sprinting as fast as he could. He charged straight past Mr Weasley who looked as if he had just come back from work without a word, stomping his way up the stairs and back into the bedroom he had met Ron and Hermione in. Hedwig chirped from her cage, and it was as if she was telling Harry what to do. 

 

Draco had been telling the truth. Of course he hadn’t known about Voldemort, how could he have? And… he had looked so  _ hurt _ , when Harry had accused him, he had looked so pale. He had waited desperately to make sure Harry was okay, his eyes so large and dripping with nerves and angst. He had cried. He had cried in the middle of the castle for anyone to see, and Harry had told him he  _ hated  _ him. It was too much, Harry felt like such an idiot, part of him wished he could just drop dead so he didn’t have to deal with it anymore. His head was searing, his chest burning. Anxiety made him want to vomit, he suddenly felt very sweaty. He had to make it right. 

 

There was already some parchment and quills on the desk, they looked like Ron’s. Harry flung himself into the chair, he didn’t know what to write. He was going too fast, everything was going too fast, he couldn’t stop himself. 

 

He scribbled down, 

**_Dear Draco,_ **

_ I’m sorry. I know you never wanted to hurt me. I shouldn’t have said any of that. Please, can we talk?  _

_ Harry _

 

It wasn’t personal enough, definitely. Maybe it was too casual, a simple apology for such a horrible thing. Maybe he shouldn’t have been writing it at all, before he had shouted at Draco, they hadn’t been speaking. They’d been broken up. He didn’t care, he just needed to send it. Writing it alone had been exhausting, mostly emotionally exhausting, Harry was out of breath. He let Hedwig out of her cage and tied the letter to her leg. 

 

“Deliver it to Malfoy.” He whispered, voice shaky. “Please, Hedwig, be fast. I need him to have it.”

 

The owl gave him an affectionate nip on the finger, and Harry stroked her head very lightly. Just as she had flown out of view, the door opened, and Hermione entered, followed by Ginny. Harry felt like he had been caught doing something very bad indeed, whirling around on the spot to look at them. 

 

“Are you okay?” Hermione asked, tentative. 

 

Harry stared at her, trying to gather his thoughts. He was already having regrets about sending that owl, he should have said more. He should have said it in  _ person _ ! He should have never been such a fool. He had missed Malfoy so much, been so miserable without him, and it hadn’t even been at all necessary. 

 

Ginny frowned at the open window, “Where’s Hedwig going?”

 

“Oh. Just - just for a fly.” Harry said, the words coming out before he could even think about how stupid that sounded. 

 

“ _ Harry _ ,” Hermione repeated, “Are you okay?”

 

“I’m fine.” Harry said way too quickly, “I’m absolutely fine. I’m dandy. I just-” his shoulders slumped, he couldn’t do it anymore. “I need to be alone.”

 

“Okay.” Hermione said slowly. She hugged him again. “Harry, don’t worry. The ministry… well. People will know the truth soon.”

“Yeah,” Ginny agreed. “Harry, Sirius said he’ll come and talk to you soon.”

 

“No.” Harry said, shaking his head. “I need to sleep.”

 

They hovered for a while longer, but eventually they left. Harry got onto the other bed, the one Ron’s stuff wasn’t on, and buried himself under the cover. He cried and cried and cried, for hours. When Ron got back, he still cried, just a lot more quiet. It was too much. All the new information… it was too much. 

  
Draco had been telling the truth. And now… now it would never be the same again. Harry had destroyed it, for once and for all.


	14. everlasting scars

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW - features a panic attack, if this could trigger you, be careful! If you don’t want to read it, let me know and I could try and send you a less detailed version :)
> 
> Sorry I didn't upload yesterday! I'm being sucked into a Teen Wolf obsession :P

 

Usually, the idea of a trip to Diagon Alley was an exciting one to Harry. A couple of days after he had gotten to Grimmauld Place, though, and Mrs Weasley said they were going to go, Harry felt a very uncomfortable twisting feeling deep in his bones. Skimming the list of things to take with them, all Harry could think about was how long it would take to buy all the new essentials, and it just made him aware of how long he would have to spend shopping. Socialising with the people at headquarters for mealtimes was hard enough, even being with Ron and Hermione was difficult - the thought of spending hours on end in the shopping town of the wizarding community was not one he greeted cheerfully. There was no way of getting round it though, so on the Saturday morning he rose early with the others and ready downstairs in front of the fireplace very soon. He stood in a line with Ron, Hermione, Ginny and the twins - Mrs Weasley was checking to make sure they weren’t trying to sneak any of their homemade joke items with them. As their argument proceeded, Harry had his stare fixed determinedly on the fireplace - if he didn’t look at one certain thing he started to freak out. He kept getting nervous, the idea of going out - it made him tremble. He couldn’t work out why, he didn’t know why it scared him so much. Surely that wasn’t normal? He didn’t even know  _ what  _ he was scared of. Was it of Voldemort or some of his sickening death eaters, fear that they would leap out at him? The fact that everyone in the wizarding world seemed to think he was either mental or just an attention seeking prat? He really didn’t know. All he did know, was when Mrs Weasley spoke to him, explaining that someone was waiting at the other fireplace, someone who was to be guarding them as they shopped, made him feel ridiculous. Needing a  _ bodyguard  _ to go  _ shopping!  _ He had never felt so weak, and so fragile. 

 

“Okay, dear?” She asked, and Harry noticed he had been standing there for ages now, hesitating. Ron and Hermione were the only ones who remained, the others all having gone through. Glancing back at them, Harry could see the clear, obvious concern on their faces. 

 

“I’m fine.” He lied, the words coming out of him very stilted, robotic. 

 

“Are you sure, mate?” Ron said, moving to stand in front of him, looking into his green eyes with that now familiar face of alarm. “You’re shaking.”

 

Following his gaze, Harry looked down as he held out his hands, and he saw that sure enough, his hands were shaking. So were his legs, and his breaths. He felt the sudden urge to cry, but he shook his head vigorously, attempting desperately to snap himself out of it. Gasping slightly, Harry tried to speak, but he didn’t know what to say. 

 

“Harry?” Hermione asked calmly, and she moved around too, taking his hand. 

 

Harry felt like a mental patient, shaking and cowering from the thought of going  _ shopping _ . He was glad that everyone else had gone and that it was just Ron and Hermione - but it would have been better without Mrs Weasley hovering attentively. 

 

“Harry? What is it?” She asked, “What can I do for you?” 

 

“What do you need, Harry?” Hermione asked, still remaining very soothing, her tone gentle. “Are you having a panic attack?”

 

“Why would he be having a panic attack?” Ron asked, utterly bewildered, and he exchanged confused glances with his mother. 

 

“I don’t know  _ why _ !” Hermione hissed, giving Ron a look. 

 

“But-”

 

“Ron!” She snapped, glaring at him. She took Harry’s hand and walked him slowly across the room, sitting him down on the sofa. Then, with a wave of her wand, a glass of water came soaring through from the kitchen, not a single drop spilled. Harry knew if he even tried to do that, the glass would be completely empty by the time it got to him and it would have been quicker to just go and get it himself. Hermione took it from the air, pressing it firmly into Harry’s hand. 

 

“Take sips.” She instructed, offering him a very small smile. Harry tried to return it, but he didn’t seem to know how. 

 

He tried to think about it, he had the same question as Ron - why on earth had he been having a panic attack? He thought it was slowing, but then he thought of Hermione’s question. 

 

_ What do you need, Harry? _

 

_ Draco _ , he wanted so badly to answer. He just wanted Draco. Even though Draco would probably be absolutely clueless when it came to calming someone down - but he wanted him.  _ Needed  _ him. And… Draco wanted absolutely nothing to do with him. Hedwig had come back the morning immediately after the letter had been delivered, and Harry hadn’t heard a single word. Everything was falling apart. His entire world was crumbling, he was shaking and trembling, always crying, always losing his temper - he didn’t know who he was anymore. He just felt like a ball of buzzing energy and disconnected thoughts and feelings. All he needed was somebody steady to hold on to, and the only one he wanted was Draco. And he couldn’t even have him, and he never would have him again. Draco would never forgive him, he just knew it. Any possibility of calming back down quickly vanished once more. Before he even knew what was going on, Harry was sobbing, huge ugly cries, his face screwed up, his breaths heaving. Hermione rushed to sit by him, and she put her arm around him lightly, not so much that it felt claustrophobic. She tried to help him to guide his breaths. 

 

“In…. out…. In….” she murmured. 

 

Suddenly Sirius came rushing into the room, and he sat down on the floor in front of his godson, looking up at him. Deciding it was best to give them space, Hermione got to her feet and moved to stand back with Ron and Mrs Weasley, who were watching the scenes looking incredibly baffled. 

 

“Hey, hey, Harry.” Sirius said, “Look at me.”

 

Harry did, looking into the eyes of the man he barely knew, yet the man he felt closest to in the world. Somehow, Sirius managed to lead him back to peace of mind. Or at least, as close to peace as Harry’s mind could be. He felt like he’d just ran a marathon, his entire body shaking still, but no longer with fear, just with exhaustion. He wanted to collapse, it was like he had woken up into a nightmare only to fall into another one, just as bad. Bowing his head, Harry tried to hold back any more tears, desperately wishing he could just be left alone. The masks of worry seemed like leering monsters, they just made him feel even more nervous. He knew they were only trying to make sure he was alright because they cared about him, but he wanted so badly to ask them to just go. 

 

“What’s wrong with me?” He asked nobody in particular, speaking in a very unsteady tone. “I’m - I’m crazy, I-”

 

“Harry, you just had a panic attack.” Hermione said. “It’s completely normal. Especially…” she broke off, not sure how to say the rest - though Harry guessed easily. 

 

“Especially after the time you’ve had lately.” Sirius finished for her. He reached up to clap Harry lightly on the shoulder, and then knocking his chin a little, trying to get him to look at him. 

 

“Harry, why don’t you give me your list? We’ll go shopping, you stay here, relax?” Mrs Weasley asked, smiling broadly at him, though it didn’t meet her eyes - those were still full of worry. 

 

Harry wanted to say yes. He really wanted to say yes, it was the perfect excuse to get out of the hellish day he had been dreading for days. But he just had to look at how concerned everyone was, suddenly treating him as a fragile and breakable little boy, the slightest knock and he had to hide himself from the world. His heart was still beating far too fast, and he felt as if he had never been so utterly exhausted. But… he couldn’t give in to it. He couldn’t let them see how powerless he had suddenly gotten. Slowly, he shook his head and got back to his feet. 

 

“No, no I’m fine.” He said, trying to grin. “I don’t know what just happened, I was being stupid.”

 

“Harry, are you sure you want to?” Hermione asked timidly, “Nobody will mind if you don’t go. I mean, it’s probably safer anyway.”

 

_ Safer _ . Harry didn’t want everything to have to be  _ safe,  _ he didn’t want everyone moving around him like they were walking on eggshells. He wasn’t really looking at anyone, just smiling and nodding and moving towards the fireplace. 

 

“I’ll be fine. We should go, everyone will be wondering what we’re doing.”

 

“Harry…” Sirius tried to stop him, so Harry tried even harder. 

 

The smile broadened and he added in a false, mechanical laugh as well. “Honestly guys, there’s nothing to worry about. I’ll be absolutely fine.”

 

“But-”

 

“See you there.” He cut Ron off next, moving towards the bowl of floo powder. He had never grabbed it up faster, ducking to fit into the fireplace. He took another look around, they would probably all take some time to discuss him, muttering about how he was so crazy and how he would never be the same again, how delicately feeble he now was. Still with that horrible, almost  _ painful _ smile, he shouted “DIAGON ALLEY!” and dropped the powder into the fireplace. The room disappeared before his very eyes. 

 

*******

 

Once Harry had managed (successfully this time) to get to Diagon Alley, he came stumbling out of the fireplace into the pub, The Leaky Cauldron. He was still trembling as he got out, stepping onto the floor and turning to face Ginny, Fred, George, and their guardian for the shopping trip. He had been expecting some old ministry sod, so when he saw who it actually was, the relief was immense. 

 

“Hagrid!” He said, smiling genuinely for the first time all morning. 

 

“Alrigh’ Harry?” the half giant said cheerily, but then he frowned, “What took ye so long?” he asked. 

 

“Oh.” Harry said, suddenly feeling like his breath was caught, he couldn’t bear the thought of how they would all react if he told them he had had a panic attack. The  _ Weasleys, _ the most Gryffindor students of all - someone having a stupid panic attack! They’d all see it as cowardice, Harry told himself. “Um, I forgot something and had to go and get it. The others didn’t want to come without me.” 

 

Thankfully, they didn’t notice how stilted and awkward the words were stumbling out of his mouth, so he just turned to Hagrid again and tried to pretend like everything was fine. He tried to pretend like being in the Leaky Cauldron, surrounded by all these people, wasn’t making him absolutely terrified. He had never felt so absolutely  _ stupid _ , why did he feel like that? There was something seriously up with his head, he just knew it. 

 

“So, Hagrid.” He tried to speak, Hermione had just appeared in the fireplace though, distracting the gamekeeper. 

 

“Hello Hermione!” Hagrid greeted her, “‘Cor, feels like I’ve been here hours!”

 

Hermione laughed and said hello, shooting Harry a nervous look. He responded to it by shaking his head, begging her not to say anything. She seemed to understand, though it didn’t really look like she got it. Ron and Mrs Weasley came through without any more delay. They went out of the door to the little pub garden, tapping the bricks on the wall quickly, they were a lot later than they had planned, Mrs Weasley was eager to rush them along. 

 

“Now, Harry,” she said as everyone looked over their booklists, her voice lowering to a hushed tone that still managed to be very loud, “Are you sure you’re okay? Because you can always go back to Headquarters, don’t feel like you  _ have _ -”

 

“I’m fine, Mrs Weasley.” He said through gritted teeth. It was very difficult, he hated having them all fuss over him, but he couldn’t really let that show because he knew they all did it because they genuinely cared. Hating it made him feel ungrateful, dreadful. Every small thing just added to him loathing himself more and more. 

 

“Are you-”

 

“Honestly.” He said, his tone harsh, so he softened the blow with a smile. “Thanks, Mrs Weasley, but I’m really fine.”

 

“Alright then.” she said, clearly not believing him. She gave him another once over, her eyes full of absolute concern. 

 

Then the others started talking to her and she looked away, thank God. If people kept asking Harry if he was alright, he thought he might just burst into floods of tears there and then. Luckily, the group were going to separate. Him, Ron and Hermione with Hagrid, and the others with their mother. Walking with them to the robes shop made Harry feel slightly more at ease, he could easily distract himself by listening to Hagrid talk about his recent date with Madame Maxime. 

 

“So you really like her then, Hagrid?” Ron asked, smiling fondly. 

 

Hagrid didn’t answer, but his cheeks went a bright rosy red and he smiled like he’d been caught in the act. They all laughed as he waved them off, but of course, his grin never slipped. Soon, it was as if the panic attack just under an hour ago had never happened, and for once, the first time in what felt like forever, Harry was able to laugh along and chat happily. He managed to ignore the stares he was getting, and he barely even heard as people would mutter about him as they walked past. Of course, he was somewhat aware, but he managed to not really care. Even then, though, he was still waiting. He’d started to accept now that whenever he was happy, it wouldn’t last for long. He was always waiting for the darkness to wash back over him. For the moment, however, he was just glad that Ron and Hermione weren’t worrying about him, asking about the panic attack. They just acted completely natural, and that was one of the reasons he loved his best friends so much. He could have the world calling him a raving lunatic and they would still stand by him. 

 

Once they had reached the robes shop, Hagrid told them he’d wait outside, he was too big to fit inside and he would just keep knocking everything over. Mrs Weasley had insisted that he and Ron get measured, saying that they never stop growing and they couldn’t possibly be the same size that they had been last year when they bought their robes. Deciding she was probably right, they begrudgingly moved through the shop towards the back, where Madam Malkin was just visible behind a curtain. Hermione was browsing back near the front, so the two of them stood, bored, waiting for her to be done with whoever was being measured. 

 

“Hold on a second, sir, let me just get a new needle…” They heard her say, and then she pulled the curtain open, going over to the table on which she kept everything. She saw the boys, jumping a little. 

 

“Oh, hello.” She said, “I’ll just finish with Mr Malfoy and then I’ll see you both.” 

 

Harry had seen him before hearing his name. Draco Malfoy stood on a little raised part of the floor. He had his cloak and robes open, revealing his bare chest. They stared at one another. It was the first time they’d seen each other in so long… neither of them spoke. Next thing Harry knew, his view was blocked by the curtain, Madam Malkin had yanked it back shut. Ron was muttering insults under his breath, but Harry wasn’t listening. 

 

He was shocked. Draco had looked so… he’d looked so sad. And his  _ eyes _ , they’d never looked quite so dark, no longer grey but more  _ black _ . Not to mention the huge purple bags around them, it looked like he hadn’t slept a wink in the past couple of months.  _ Years _ . Everything… Harry couldn’t breathe again. He was thinking of the letter he had sent, and Draco hadn’t responded. They wouldn’t ever talk it through, Harry would just have to  _ see  _ the boy he wanted so badly, the boy he  _ craved _ ...  he felt like a drug addict, being locked away in a jail cell. It was  _ Draco _ , right there, just between a sheet of fabric. They were so close, he could so easily kiss him, hug him, speak to him,  _ feel him _ . And he couldn’t. 

 

“I need some air.” He whispered. He went outside, shoving his way past another Hogwarts student he didn’t recognise and her mother. 

 

“He really is mad!” One of them said, watching him as he sprinted from the shop. 

 

He forgot Hagrid was out there, he didn’t even spare him a glance, just crashing immediately. He slumped on the ground with his back pressed against the wall of the shop, pressing his head against his knees in a desperate attempt to hold himself still. It felt as if the world was revolving around him. It wasn’t a panic attack, not another one, just… he had to cry. He needed to let it all out, but he just  _ couldn’t _ . Not there, not in public for everyone to see, for  _ Draco  _ to see. 

 

He couldn’t believe he had been so stupid. Blaming  _ Draco  _ for  _ Voldemort _ trying to kill him. He had ruined this all himself, just like he ruined everything. 

 

“Harry?” Hagrid seemed to have called his name many times, only after several attempts did his voice manage to break through into Harry’s mind.

 

Flinching, he looked up, Hagrid was watching him. He’d never looked quite so upset. Harry mistook it for disappointment. He just  _ knew  _ everyone thought he was completely broken, and completely crazy. 

 

“Harry, what’s the matteh with yeh?” 

 

_ I don’t know _ . He rose slowly to his feet, shaking his head, Hermione and Ron had just come out of the shop as well. They were watching him with wide eyes. 

 

“I have to go home.” Harry said. “I can’t be here.”

 

“Whatever you need, Harry.” Hermione agreed, “We can give our shopping lists to the others and they can-”

 

“No.” Harry shook his head, “I have to be alone. You guys stay here.”

 

He wanted to walk himself back to the Leaky Cauldron, but all three of them argued that that was completely the opposite idea of Hagrid even being there. It wasn’t safe for him. 

 

“What does everyone think?” Harry asked, losing his temper as they told him again and again he couldn’t go on his own. “Do they think Voldemort and a gaggle of Death Eaters are just going to come running at me, screaming bloody  _ fucking  _ murder?!” 

 

All three of them stared back at Harry, completely shocked. They shook their heads, and it was quiet for a while. 

 

“I’m sorry.” Harry muttered at last, hating himself as usual. “I shouldn’t have- I’m sorry.”

 

“No, mate.” Ron said with a sigh, “We don’t think that. But it’s dangerous now. He’s back. And-”

 

“And you keep having panic attacks, Harry!” Hermione said, sounding surprisingly heated. Harry stared at her, startled by the frustration in her voice, but… also glad. Glad that finally, someone wasn’t doing what everyone else was doing, just walking on eggshells, acting as if his rudeness and his attitude was okay. “You tell us you’re okay, but it’s evident that you’re really  _ not _ , Harry! And I know it’s because you’re  _ ashamed _ , but you have no reason to be ashamed. You faced the Dark Lord, you were  _ tortured _ , you saw somebody  _ die _ , and you are actually  _ ashamed  _ of yourself for showing emotions.”

 

“Hermione…” Ron said quietly, trying to stop her, but she shook him off. 

 

“No, Harry, you can’t just keep acting like you’re okay when you’re not! And you can’t be annoyed that we all care about you and want to keep you  _ safe _ ! You act like you’re all alone in this world, but you are the  _ opposite _ . So yes, you’re going home, frankly you shouldn’t have come here in the first place after what happened back at headquarters, and you’re going to  _ let us!  _ You’re going to let us worry about you and try to protect you, because that’s what best friends  _ do _ !” 

 

She stopped with a sharp intake of breath, shaking her head as tears of frustration gathered in the corners of her eyes. Harry stared at her, then to Ron. Hagrid stood aside, watching everything happening like it was a slightly confusing movie. It was quiet for a while, none of them speaking as the busy shoppers hustled and bustled around them. 

 

“Okay.” Harry said finally. “Okay.” 

 

Nobody spoke after that. They walked with him to the pub, going to the fireplace with him. Harry muttered thanks Hagrid, and then grunted a gasp as Hagrid pulled him into a bone crushing hug. 

 

“You’ll be alrigh’, Harry.” Hagrid said. 

 

Somehow, Harry believed him. He went back to Grimmauld Place. When he got there, he came out into the living room, glad to find it empty. Hermione was right. They were right to be worried about him, but… they didn’t know the full story. 

 

His heart ached. He could just see  _ Draco _ in his mind's eye, and it was driving him absolutely crazy. He had never longed for somebody quite so much, and never regretted something quite so much, either. The way he spoke to him…. Saying he  _ hated  _ him. It was no wonder Draco didn’t reply to his owl. You can’t tell someone you hate their guts and then send a quick scribbled note - 

 

_ I’m sorry. I know you never wanted to hurt me. I shouldn’t have said any of that. Please, can we talk?   _ That had been the most stupid note ever. Harry wanted to shoot himself. 

 

Forgetting the letter, he just kept thinking about his face. Sitting on the sofa, Harry closed his eyes. He was trying to remember how it had felt to touch that face. He was trying to remember how he had kissed Draco, how it had felt when the Slytherin boy would mark the pale skin of Harry’s neck. The way his breaths would start to race, hot and heavy breaths. He thought of how Draco liked to pull his hair, not that hard, but he would tug slightly; Harry would moan into the kisses and Harry would let out moans of his own, filled with heated pleasure. 

 

“I need you.” Harry said, meaning to say it in his head but he couldn’t keep the words from spilling out of his mouth. 

 

“Harry?”

 

Practically jumping out of his seat, Harry looked up to see Sirius standing in the doorway. His Godfather was analysing him, a sad smile on his face. “What are you doing back?”

 

“I…” Harry tried to answer, but he didn’t really know how to explain what had happened. He just shook his head. 

 

“Are you alright?”

 

He really wished people would stop asking him that, it made him feel like breaking down. It made him want to tell whoever it was everything, but he just couldn’t do it. He couldn’t hand someone else his demons, it wasn’t fair. Sirius entered the room properly, moving to sit down beside Harry. 

 

“You know, when I was in Azkaban, I tried so hard not to let it make me like it made everyone else.”

 

“How’s that?” Harry asked, not quite looking at Sirius, just in case any tears threatened to spill out. 

 

“Completely miserable.” Sirius said, and he chuckled a little. “It made everyone dark, no light in their eyes whatsoever. Soon, even the most horrible of prisoners lost the will even to be angry, they just… weren’t themselves. I wasn’t myself either, of course, but I wouldn’t let it get me. I wasn’t meant to be there, so I was adamant that the dementors wouldn’t take away my soul.”

 

“How?” Harry asked, always shocked by the strength of his godfather - he didn’t understand in the slightest how anyone could be near so many dementors, in the midst of so much darkness, without a patronus, and not get completely depressed.

 

“Well, the prison ruined me in other ways. I was angry, and… uneasy. In the last few years I was there, I don’t think a day went past where I didn’t lose myself in a horrible panic attack. And because the dementors take away your wills and motivation, I couldn’t pull myself out of them. Nobody was there to pull me out of them.” He paused, thoughtful. “At times, the panic attacks made me feel weak. I thought everyone must have thought I was just a terrified prisoner, completely wrecked and scared, like a dog who’d been abused.”

 

“But you’re not weak.” Harry said, absolutely shocked that he could possibly think that. He looked at him, shaking his head, but found that Sirius was smiling. 

 

“I know.” He said. “It didn’t make me weak. Being so  _ anxious _ , it didn’t make me weak at all. It meant I was strong. I got through it. I fought it.”

 

Harry almost smiled himself. He thought it through again and again, the picture of Sirius, the strong and determined fighter he was, cowering in the corner of a cell guarded by the horrible, horrible dementors, shaking and crying and afraid. It made his heart break. He had  _ survived _ . But…. 

 

This was different. He wasn’t in a prison, he had no reason to be so anxious. Or  _ did  _ he? Hermione had told him how it was to be expected after what he’d been through, and he should stop trying to fight it. Let his humanity show, let his emotions exist. Maybe she was right. If he locked all his feelings away like he had been doing… it would never end. And he’d always be suffering alone. 

 

“Thanks, Sirius.” He whispered, his voice cracked. 

 

“You’ve got nothing to thank me for, Harry.” Sirius said in disbelief, but he was still smiling. “Your parents would be so proud of you, you know that?” 

 

Harry nodded, but he didn’t really believe it. Would they be proud of him? Would James really be proud that his son was letting his emotions be ruled by Draco Malfoy? Maybe everyone had a point about the panic attacks and how he was a wreck, that wasn’t his fault. He’d fought Voldemort, it was to be expected. But… the heartbreak. The misery caused by his heart shattering at the hand of a Malfoy. 

 

“I know.” He said. 

 

“Why don’t you get some rest, Harry.” Sirius suggested, “Did you get any sleep last night?”

 

“No.” Harry replied, he’d been up all night stressing about going to Diagon Alley. He got to his feet and went to leave, but he stopped in the doorway. 

 

“Sirius?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“What do you think of the Malfoy family?” He asked. 

 

He focused intently on Sirius’ reaction. He frowned, looking very confused, obviously trying to work out what link any of this had to do with Harry. 

 

“Well, I think they’re scum. Absolute scum. They’ve done horrible things in their time, Harry, there’s even rumours of them keeping muggleborns as slaves years ago.”

 

“What, Lucius?” Harry asked with a frown - had  _ Draco  _ been raised with a muggleborn slaving on him, serving him? 

 

“No, not him. But his parents and grandparents. I wouldn’t put it past Lucius, though, They’re the definition of pureblood scum.”

 

Harry tried to contain himself. But… he couldn’t. He could already feel more tears welling, it would never work. He couldn’t ever be with Draco, not if his own family hated him. His family  _ and  _ his best friends - maybe it was a good thing Draco hadn’t replied to his message.

 

“But Harry, just because Lucius is the one feeding the Daily Prophet with stories of you being, well, saying you’re making everything up, don’t worry about it. Everyone will know the truth in the end.”

 

Harry tried to respond, but the words wouldn’t come. Forcing a tight lipped smile, he nodded his head and fled from the room. Once he was back in the bedroom he shared with Ron, he flung himself down onto the bed. His face against the pillow muffled the sounds of his heartbroken, pain filled, wracking sobs. He was a terrible person. 

 

Only a terrible person could be so… so  _ in love  _ with a Malfoy. He should have been put in Slytherin all those years ago, he knew it. 

 

He was in love with Draco Malfoy. 

  
Speaking those words out loud would be the biggest downfall yet. 


	15. sick tricks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys, i'm so sorry it took me this long to update, but here you go, another chapter! as i said, i've been having some stuff going on and they're kind of still there, so maybe the updates won't be as frequent as they were, but i promise you, i'm not giving up on this story!

September 1st came far too soon, and all of a sudden, Harry was off to Kings Cross station, bundled in the back of a taxi with Ron, Hermione, Mrs Weasley and a couple of porky aurors there for ‘just in case’. 

 

“What do they think is going to happen?” Harry had grumbled as they were being directed to the car meant for them, “Voldemort’s just going to come along for the train journey? Waiting in the middle of a road for me to just come driving past?”

 

“Harry, don’t say such things!” Mrs Weasley said, sounding nervous as she pleaded, Harry felt his cheeks flush pink, he hadn’t realised she could hear him. 

 

Even if Grimmauld Place was dark, damp and dreary, and Harry definitely hadn’t been happy whilst there, he was sad to be leaving. Sad because he would miss seeing Sirius - and sad because he really didn’t want to go back to school. He could already imagine the way classrooms would quieten down as he walked in, the students having just been discussing whether or not they thought Harry was going insane, he could imagine the rumours being spread about him, there’d be no escaping the wicked whispers. And the worst part, the fact that he would be seeing Draco every single day. He had never got a response to his letter, not that he really expected otherwise, so seeing the Slytherin boy would probably physically pain him. As much as he tried, Harry just hadn’t been able to even attempt to brace himself for the occurrence. Despite Molly and the aurors doing everything they could to remain on schedule, the taxi still managed to pull up with only a few minutes to spare, and they had to sprint to platform 9 and ¾ - at first, they forgot to pay the taxi driver and Mrs Weasley accidentally tried to give him galleons. As she tried to work it out, she told them to run ahead, so Ron, Harry and Hermione raced their way to the wall, barely even pausing; just continuing to run straight into it. Once they had made it through to the other side, they came to a stop with their trunks and pets, and Harry wished they were still sprinting. No longer having to just focus on rushing, he had nothing really to concentrate on. He was back, fully in the wizarding world, in even smaller of a space than last time - and Draco could have come walking round the corner at any point. Before he even registered what was happening, Harry could  _ already  _ feel the nerves piling up inside of him, building a tower of trembles so tall it should have been bursting through his head, too much for him to even contain inside him. 

 

He hadn’t even noticed that Ron and Hermione had started to move, and now his two best friends stopped again, turning to face him. 

 

“Harry?” Hermione asked, brow furrowed. “Are you alright?”

 

“Harry, come on, the train!” Ron urged, and then Harry felt a hand on his shoulder. 

 

Flinching, he turned to see who it was, scowling when he realised it was one of the aurors. He’d almost forgotten they were there. “Potter? You seen something?” He asked, voice gruff. 

 

_ Only the realisation that I’m going back to Hogwarts,  _ Harry thought to himself. Gulping that sour thought down, he shook his head, trying to smile and knowing that it didn’t look anything like one. “No. Nothing.” He said. 

 

The train made a loud hooting noise, and then Mrs Weasley materialised through the wall, an auror guarding her too. Harry wondered what all the other students were saying, probably sniggering at the  _ chosen one,  _ so weak and desperate that he needs a gaggle of  _ body guards  _ everywhere he goes. Alone, that thought was enough to make his cheeks flame a bright tomato red. 

 

“Why aren’t you on the train?” Mrs Weasley said, the stress clear in her tone. Harry felt guilty - he’d probably made Summer terrible for everybody, always needing someone to make sure he’s okay, never doing anything right. Deep down, he’d kind of been hoping that maybe if he missed the train, he wouldn’t have to go. But… he had nowhere to go. He couldn’t just hang around where he wasn’t wanted. Everybody said he  _ was  _ wanted, of course, but they had to say that. Harry knew none of it was true. 

 

His thoughts were interrupted as Mrs Weasley pulled him in for a tight hug, he hastily patted her on the back. He was surprised by how upset she looked herself. Well, nervous, and eyes full of sympathy. When they pulled apart, she placed her hands on his shoulders, then lifted one to cup his face gently, trying her best to offer a reassuring smile. 

 

“You’ll be alright, Harry.” She said, almost as if she was trying to convince herself that this was the truth. “And we’ll see you at Christmas.”

 

“Bye, Mrs Weasley.” He said. 

 

As he followed Ron and Hermione to the first carriage doors of the train, he felt his heart pounding so hard it was as if it would tear through the skin of his chest with razor sharp claws, the sounds of students and families shouting goodbyes, the train whistling, all of it making his ears want to fall off, he wasn’t even looking but he was pretty sure everybody was staring at him. He wondered just what the news had been saying about him that morning. As soon as he had managed to haul his things up onto the train, the doors almost closed on him (he managed to jump out the way) and the train began to move. Silently, he followed the others down the gangway, looking left and right for somewhere empty to sit. He never looked for too long, though - he was scared that somebody inside would look up themselves and see him. 

 

He couldn’t avoid talking to other students forever, but he was just so  _ nervous _ . He’d never been so terrified to go home. The train used to bring excitement and joy and nothing more to Harry’s heart, now it made him feel weak, uneasy, and vulnerable. 

 

“Ginny said at breakfast she’d try and save us seats,” Hermione was saying, now that she was allowed to do magic she had performed a spell to make her trunk levitate in front of her so she didn’t have to heave it along; it probably weighed more than an actual library the amount of books she had shoved into it. 

 

“Seats as far down the train as humanly possible?” Ron grumbled. 

 

At last they looked through into one of the compartments and saw the familiar long flame of Ginny’s fiery red hair. Harry hadn’t even seen inside but he already knew it definitely wouldn’t be  _ just  _ Ginny. He breathed in a sharp intake of breath, but he didn’t even manage to prepare himself. Ron nodded for him to go in first, and Harry entered the carriage with his head bowed. He was expecting a load of Ginny’s fourth year friends, but as he nervously turned to look at the faces, he almost actually felt  _ relief _ \- something positive for the first time in forever. It was just Neville and a blonde girl that Harry recognised as Luna Lovegood - a Ravenclaw girl who was known for being rather unusual; a few of the nastier students called her Loony Lovegood instead. Harry felt a surge of shame as he realised one of those students would almost  _ definitely  _ be Draco. 

 

“Was mum alright?” Ginny was asking, “Or did she cry again?”

 

“She looked teary.” Hermione replied, sitting down having put her things up on the luggage rack. She was having a much easier time of it than both Ron and Harry were. 

 

“For goodness sake.” She muttered, shaking her head. She flicked her wand and muttered  _ wingardium leviosa  _ under her breath, both of their trunks soared up with ease. 

 

Harry sat down in the seat opposite Luna, next to the window. 

 

“Hello Harry.” she said as if they were old friends. 

 

“Uh- hi.” He replied, doing his best to smile. 

 

Gradually, the conversation grew slightly less awkward. Soon, they were growing more accustomed to Luna’s rather odd mannerisms and even Harry was finding it amusing to watch her conversing with Hermione, who seemed like such a polar opposite to her. He began to forget his nerves and fears, instead thinking just about how maybe, the year wouldn’t be quite as bad as he thought. If he spent time only with his friends, maybe it would be alright. And maybe now that he was back within the wizarding world himself, he’d no longer be nothing but a target of slander in the news. As he looked out the window, he found himself smiling, to himself, for the first time in what felt like forever. Not a forced one for the benefit of others, but for  _ him _ . Hogwarts had always been the place he associated with happiness. He wouldn’t let Draco ruin that for him.

 

*****************

 

That happy thought managed to last for just about an hour. The laughter and cheerful conversation that had filled the compartment with positive vibes was instantly dulled as they heard familiar voices coming down the train. They could hear Crabbe and Goyle laughing, and where Crabbe and Goyle were… 

 

“No, don’t go in that one!” 

 

Of course, Harry would always instantly recognise the voice of Draco Malfoy. The problem was, unlike the others, he didn’t react to it with the mask of seething rage that they expected to see, instead it made him recoil and want to hide away in the corner. He suddenly felt the urge to just burst into tears, and he had no choice but to hold it all in. Ron was already readying himself, pulling his wand out of his pocket. 

 

“Why not?” Goyle asked, his voice clear despite the door between them, “ _ Potter _ ’s in there. I’d love to give  _ him  _ a detention!”

 

“ _ Goyle  _ is a prefect?” Ginny said in disbelief. “What sort of idiot would make  _ Goyle  _ a  _ prefect _ ?” 

 

They all looked towards Ron and Hermione, who had been made the Gryffindor prefects themselves. Part of Harry had felt selfishly confused, he hated it but he couldn’t help feeling a little envious, why was Ron a prefect and not him? However, he had stopped having much of an interest in most things, so he had managed to sort of shrug it off. Still, seeing that badge shining on the robes of both of his best friends and not having one himself did feel a little disheartening. 

 

“No, Draco is.” Hermione said, disgust blatant in her tone as he grimaced, “Draco and Pansy.”

 

Harry’s guts twisted ever so slightly more.  _ Draco and Pansy _ . The thought of the two them was enough to make him feel sick. All of these thoughts going through his mind were painful enough to be tearing at his insides completely, and yet to make matters even worse, he couldn’t show them. 

 

“You mean you’d love to see  _ me  _ give him a detention, Goyle.” Draco said snarkily, “I’m the prefect, not you.”

 

“Yeah but Draco, haven’t you dreamed of being able to have that sort of  _ power  _ over Potter for years?” somebody else said, Crabbe. 

 

In the carriage, Harry swallowed down an acidic thought - Draco already had all too much power over him. He controlled his emotions completely. He controlled every single one of Harry’s thoughts, whether he wanted to or not. Of course, he couldn’t avoid them forever, and he would be seeing Draco sooner or later, but as they waited to see whether or not the gang of Slytherins came in or not, Harry held his breath. He squeezed his eyes shut, leaning his head back onto the seat and trying to calm himself down. He could feel Luna watching him curiously, but he tried to pretend like she wasn’t there.

 

_ Don’t come in,  _ he pleaded again and again in his head.  _ I’m not ready _ … 

 

All of them were silent, listening to hear what Draco said in response to that. 

 

“I’ve got better things to do with my time than to be worrying about Potter.” He said bitterly. 

 

Harry was the only one who knew the true meaning of that. It was the only proof he needed to know that he really had ruined everything, Draco had moved on from him. He had just humiliated himself by sending Hedwig with that letter saying sorry, he had completely sabotaged his relationship with Draco Malfoy. He was nothing more than a waste of time. 

 

***********

 

The journey continued without anymore interruptions, and Harry was having a considerably hard time to compose himself. As the Hogwarts Express pulled into the platform, he was met partly with more nerves for having to go back to school and seeing everybody, and also a strange sense of relief. Being on the train was beginning to feel too close and clingy and he desperately wanted to be alone. Not that that was possible, he’d have to sit through the start of term feast first. They stayed with Ginny, Luna and Neville, trailing along behind everybody else towards the carriages, not minding the gentle spitting of rain. 

 

“Yeah, and  _ he’s  _ a prefect.” Ron scoffed irritably, glaring into the distance. 

 

Without thinking about who he was talking about, Harry followed his gaze, and he instantly regretted it. Draco was with his Slytherin cronies, all of which were shoving second years out of the way in order to get into a carriage first. Draco wasn’t doing any pushing, and Harry knew it wasn’t against his beliefs or anything, he just didn’t seem to be in the mood for being nasty today. He watched for a moment too long, just the back of his pale blond head moving along behind his friends with disheartened slowness, not seeming his usual self. As he got up onto the carriage, he turned to look over his shoulder, and for just the slightest second, it looked as if he saw Harry. Quicker than the speed of light he fixed his stare on something else, but there had been a moment of eye contact, it was undeniable. Already walking considerably slower than his friends, Harry’s knees seemed to completely weaken and he felt as if he was going to fall over. He also felt as if he was about to throw up, though he tried to push that feeling aside. He was so focused on staring after Draco that he didn’t even notice as he headed towards the carriage but instead stumbled straight into a huge black horse like animal. He almost mumbled an apology thinking it was nothing, but then he stood back and gaped up at it. 

 

The others were all watching him, brows furrowed, as he stared amazed at the huge creature. It looked rather skeletal, and it had massive leathery bat-like wings arching from it’s back. 

 

“Harry?” Hermione asked, coming to stand at his side and touching his shoulder lightly, “Are you alright? What is it?”

 

“I- I’m fine.” He lied, glancing at her sidewards and realising she didn’t seem at all surprised to see the creature which appeared to be pulling the carriage. “You don’t see it?”

 

She stared blankly, blinking a couple of times as if trying to focus something, and then shook her head. “See what?”

 

“Pulling the carriages!” He said, frustrated. Was he really imagining it? He hadn’t seen anything pulling the carriages before… 

 

Then he felt somebody else come to stand at his other side, and noticed it was Luna. She smile at him reassuringly, though there was something sad about the smile, “You’re not going mad. I can see them, too.”

 

Harry tried to return the smile, but he found that it wasn’t really reassuring to be told by someone like Luna Lovegood that he was just as sane as she was. Ron asked what the hold up was from where he sat in one of the carriages, so Harry allowed the others to lead him away from the creature. He felt as if he was walking blindly, not really sure what was going on. He seemed to be living in a daze as if he had just seen a ghost - he didn’t know if that ghost was the imaginary flying horse or the ghost of his old relationship; if you could even call it a relationship. 

 

***********

 

They were some of the last students to reach the castle. Usually, this was fine, it just meant they didn’t have to wait for as long sat still and unable to eat the food, but this time it made Harry feel the millionth wave of discomfort for the whole day. He’d have to walk past the Slytherin table, there was no avoiding it, and this meant walking past Draco. It was bad enough feeling everybody else with their judgemental gazes, but maybe even that he could manage if he didn’t have to walk past  _ him _ . 

 

“Are you alright mate?” Ron asked as they neared the doors to the great hall and Harry had started to slow until he was frozen on the spot. 

 

The others had all gone in, seemingly not noticing that the boys were hovering outside. Harry couldn’t tell him the truth, but as he stared up at the understanding face of his best friend he wished for nothing more than to be able to pour his heart out. He had been keeping secrets for so long…

 

“Everyone in there thinks I’m a lying, attention seeking nutter.” He said flatly instead.

 

Shaking his head, Ron stepped closer to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Nah, they’re over it by now. They’re too busy talking about The Weird Sisters. They just announced a tour this morning…”

 

“Cedric and Voldemort are a bit more of a concern, don’t you think?” Harry snapped, then sighed. “Sorry. I don’t mean to take it out on you.” 

 

“Don’t worry about it.” Ron mumbled, shaking his head. They were quiet for a moment, neither one sure what to say, the just heard the chatter echoing out from the dining hall. “Look, Harry, you just have to pretend like they’re not there. Just keep your head high. You know you’re telling the truth, and  _ we  _ know. That’s all that matters, right?” 

 

Harry thought about it. He could just go in there and try to ignore it, but he would still be in the same room as Draco, which would definitely be painful. And even if he tried to ignore it, he would still feel the eyes of everybody on him, whispers about what happened in the graveyard with Cedric. Or he could sneak up to the dorms, he could hide away. But… he couldn’t hide forever. He knew that. He had to face the world sooner or later. He sighed again. 

 

“You’re right.” He said, nodding and trying to make himself sound optimistic. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

 

“Exactly!” Ron agreed with a grin. 

 

He turned to stand beside Harry, placing an arm around his shoulder and leading the way into the great hall. Harry took in a sharp breath of air, beginning to prepare himself. It was still way too soon when they entered the hall and walked past the Slytherin table. He couldn’t help it, his eyes drifted to where Draco sat. This time, Draco was looking, and he didn’t look away either. He held his gaze for just a second longer for it to be an accident. Trying desperately to read Draco’s grey eyes, Harry’s head turned as he continued to walk with Ron. He wished so badly he could say something, but he didn’t know what, and he certainly couldn’t in a room full of people. Draco was the first one to look away, and he stared right at Pansy. Harry felt his insides boil. Draco was looking at  _ Pansy  _ and smiling. He didn’t care that everybody was staring about him, he could hear whispers of students saying  _ I didn’t even think he’d show up  _ and the like, he just cared about Malfoy. Maybe that was juvenile of him, but… well. Draco controlled his emotions. He knew that, and he was smiling at Pansy in that sickeningly sweet way just to get Harry mad. 

 

The moment was over fast but not fast enough, Harry was boiling so much that the rage was spitting off of him. 

 

“Where’d you two get to?” Hermione asked as they sat down, Ron muttered a response. 

 

Harry had sat intentionally with his back to the Slytherins, but it was proving a great test to his self control, seeing if he could keep from glancing over his shoulder and seeing what Draco was doing. It was like something itching at the back of him, begging him to pay it attention, and it was taking all of his willpower to keep himself from doing so. He was so focused on that that he didn’t even realise when the doors opened and the first years were led in by McGonagall, and he didn’t pay any attention whatsoever throughout the entire sorting ceremony. He stared grumpily at his plate, every now and then clapping halfheartedly when Hermione would nudge him. Even though he was pretty sure Draco was definitely completely done with him, Harry was almost entirely certain that he could feel those grey eyes digging into his back, burning with such a vicious rage that they could have melted a hole through his skin, straight through to his dully beating heart. 

 

Dumbledore got up and gave a short speech, and his voice was quickly drowned out as a woman cleared her throat. Harry didn’t look up at the sound of that, just stayed glaring at the plates on the table, he didn’t trust himself to let his eyes wander anywhere else. He tried to pay attention to the voice, he didn’t recognise it in the slightest, but it sounded annoying. High pitched and sickeningly sweet. He couldn’t even catch onto any of the words, either, everything just seemed to be floating right over his head. 

 

“What a load of old waffle.” Ron muttered after a while, sounding very bored indeed. 

 

Harry glanced up then, just looking across from him at the face of his best friend. Hermione, who was beside Harry, made a noise of exasperation. “Ron, there’s a lot of things  _ in  _ the waffle.” 

 

“Like what?” Ron echoed, “I just heard nonsense. Who’d want to be friends with that toadface?” 

 

“Did you really not understand a word of that?” Hermione retorted, “Harry, did you?” 

 

Harry looked at her too late, completely silent, causing her to look more and more frustrated. Her eyes shot wildly to the staff table, and Harry followed her eyeline. It fell right on a woman who looked remarkably short even sat down, dressed in bright pink from head to toe, and she definitely did have a toadface. To make matters worse, she appeared to have been staring at Harry for the entire time, when their eyes met across the Great Hall, they seemed to burn into his own; he couldn’t look away, it felt like a staring contest, a competition. 

 

“It means... “ Hermione started, looking around before lowering her voice even more, “It means that the ministry is interfering at Hogwarts.”

 

Harry felt his blood begin to pulse a lot faster inside of him, he felt a rush of overwhelming unease. He thought about everything the minister had been saying about him, all of the news reports that had been circulating around the Wizarding world all of it because of the ministry. He had known that of course there would still be talk about him but… this wasn’t good. The ministry getting involved at Hogwarts, that wasn’t good. Absently, Harry’s eyes wandered back up to the table, and he tried to catch Dumbledore’s eye. The headmaster, however, was looking anywhere but at Harry and it looked like he was almost determined for it to be that way. He wasn’t eating any of his food - and that was the moment Harry realised that the feast had started, food had magically appeared on all of the dishes in the middle of the table. Neither had Ron, which was just further proof that this news wasn’t good for any of them. 

 

“Who is that woman?” Harry asked, knowing it had probably been explained earlier but not caring. 

 

He ignored the look of utter despair on Hermione’s face as she informed him. “That’s the new Defence professor. Dolores Umbridge.” She said. 

 

The name made Harry shudder, he didn’t know why. He just had a feeling that it wasn’t the name of someone he would come to trust. 

 

Ron and Hermione started dishing themselves up food, Ron had dived for a plate of sausages eagerly. Harry looked around at all the food. There was so much, and all of it looked so delicious but… as usual, he wasn’t hungry. He just had no appetite. Thinking that everybody was too hungry to be looking at anything but the feast, Harry decided he couldn’t take it anymore. He risked a quick glance over his shoulder towards the Slytherin table, and instantly regretted it. Draco was staring straight back at him, only he bowed his head the moment Harry saw, acting as if he was just looking at his plate. Harry noticed, with an ache in his chest, that Draco didn’t seem to have much of an appetite either. 

 

**************

 

Harry couldn’t sleep for hours that night. There was a strange tension in the air of the dorms even whilst everybody else was asleep - Seamus had mentioned how his mother didn’t want him coming back to Hogwarts and supposedly that was Harry’s fault. He knew he should care, he should be sad that one of his fellow Gryffindor’s didn’t want to be friends with him anymore, but honestly, he didn’t. He just cared about Draco. He had looked so  _ thin _ , and so sad. Even if he had said on the train that had no time to be worrying about Harry, and Harry believed it, that wouldn’t stop _him_ from worrying. He just felt so guilty, and now Draco looked so much like he hated himself and that was the most painful thing of all. Harry had blamed him and now Draco would always blame himself, even if he didn’t notice it. His already pale skin looked more white than ever, maybe it was thanks to the contrast of how dark and sunken the shadows around his eyes had gotten. And he didn’t seem to be eating either, just like Harry. He wondered if he was sleeping, or if he was lying awake, anxious and miserable just like Harry. 

 

Also, Harry knew he should care a lot more about Umbridge, and he  _ was  _ concerned, but… well. There were a lot of things he should have been worrying about but he was only worried about  _ Draco Malfoy _ . Even this time last year, Harry realised, that would have been unheard of. And he knew one thing for sure - he wouldn’t be able to get through this whole year of school. Even getting through one feast had seemed nearly impossible. He just  _ couldn’t,  _ the idea of being so close to the boy he… he couldn’t say loved. He wouldn’t let himself  _ love  _ Draco. It would never work, and it would just hurt him more. He couldn't stand the idea of being so close to the boy he wanted so badly, and to never get it. It was like putting heroin next to a heroin addict, but tying their hands, not letting them get the thing they craved so badly. 

It felt like the world enjoyed playing the cruelest of tricks on him, and they’d always win, in the end.


	16. movie of mistakes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Possible TW for selfharm - it's not at all selfharm but the way things are talked about could possibly be triggering! xx

The first day of classes seemed to scrape at Harry’s guts and his heart, anytime he wasn’t trying to lose himself in his own daydreams he could practically feel everything. The stares, exhaustion, sadness, loneliness, Draco sitting just a couple of seats behind him… all of it made him ache all over. Part of him had been hopeful that it would just get easier as they days wore on, but he couldn’t have been more wrong. Every day, waking up, he could have so easily just stayed in bed, buried himself under the covers and the let time and space melt away - but, there would be no doing that. The worst part was, he seemed to be almost running into Draco more than he had done for the first four years at school in total within the space of one week. It appeared that Draco, like Harry, had also taken to wandering around the school in favour of being with his friends or even going to class sometimes. 

 

Countless times, Harry had rounded the corner and seen Draco approaching from the other end of the corridor. Every time, Harry would stop on the spot, opening his mouth as if to speak but words wouldn’t come, and by the time he had eve gathered his thoughts Draco had paled even more so he looked like a particularly miserable ghost; turned around on his heel, and stalked off. Sometimes, this had happened when he was walking with Ron and Hermione, they’d always watch Draco go with weary contempt. 

 

“What do you reckon Malfoy’s up to?” Ron asked one day, when Draco had practically sprinted past them with his eyes determinedly fixed to the stone floor. 

 

Even hearing the name spoken out loud made Harry’s blood rush to his cheeks, and he felt himself turning a tomato red. They could never know the truth. He would have told them eventually, what had been going on with him and Draco but… now that they were over, there was no point. Helt slightly irritated in response to that question, though. 

 

“Who says he’s  _ up to  _ anything?” He snapped frustratedly.

 

When Ron caught on to the anger in his tone, he frowned, studying Harry closely, but Hermione hadn’t seemed to have noticed. “He does seem rather… out of sorts.”

 

“Why are you both worrying about  _ Malfoy _ when we have worse things to be worrying about?” Harry said again, unable to keep the irritation from his voice, he was just desperate to get away from the subject of Draco. “Like how Umbridge isn’t even letting us use our  _ wands  _ in class?”

 

He definitely noticed as his best friends exchanged confused glances, but then they carried on walking, brushing over his little outburst. “Yes, I’ve been thinking about that, too.” Hermione mused. “The ministry are being absolutely ridiculous, Harry, I can’t believe all that rubbish she was saying about You-Know-Who being nothing but a silly rumour!”

 

“You mean bullshit.” Ron said. 

 

Harry blocked them out. Honestly, he did know that Umbridge was an issue to be worrying about, but - well. He couldn’t really go with his own request to stop worrying about Malfoy when there were worse things going on. He just didn’t know what he could do about it. He didn’t feel like himself, being back at Hogwarts and still not talking to Draco made it unbearable. He missed him so much. He didn’t even just miss his touch, but he missed his sarcastic humour, the way the two of them would banter back and forth, the way Draco would try so hard to hide the curving of his mouth, narrowing his eyes even more to pretend like he wasn’t amused or happy. Every time they almost walked into one another, Harry felt a rush of relief, thinking maybe it was his chance to make things right. That rush was very, very quick though - it was always so suddenly replaced with even more misery than he had been feeling before. It didn’t ever seem possible that the weight of unhappiness would get heavier, yet it always managed to. 

 

“Potter.” 

 

A voice cracked through his thoughts, and Harry jerked himself out of his trance. He stared around blankly, blinking as if adjusting to new light. He hadn’t even realised as he entered the room, but now he sat in the middle of Transfiguration class, every student turning to stare at him, some sniggering as Professor McGonagall towered over him. She looked furious. Instantly, Harry felt his skin flame up. Without meaning to, he looked over to where the Slytherins sat, that’s where people were laughing the loudest. All but Draco. He was staring back at Harry with wide eyes, no emotion present. He was sat beside Pansy, and Harry felt a little stick when he saw just how close they were - their legs were practically touching. He tried to look unbothered, turning back to McGonagall. She raised her eyebrows. 

 

“Something to say?”

 

“Uh- no.” Harry said, then when she looked even more angry he rushed to smooth over his mistake. “I mean, yes. Yes, um, sorry Professor.” 

 

She relaxed ever so slightly, the anger in her blazing eyes seemed to be replaced with something else as she analysed the Gryffindor boy. Sadness? Pity? 

 

“See me after class, Mr Potter.” She said in her clipped voice before going back to stand at the front of the class. 

 

Most students turned back to watch her, but for just a moment longer, Harry could feel Draco still gazing over at him. He didn’t want to meet his eyes, he was too embarrassed, but he could see out of the corner of his eye. He didn’t know if he thought that was a good thing or a bad thing. Beside him, Ron put a hand on his shoulder, a comforting pat. 

 

“You alright mate?” He whispered. “You were completely zoned out there.”

 

Harry had been feeling zoned out a lot recently. It was just easier to try and remove himself from the situation rather than having to sit through feeling worthless and sad. Turning to look at Ron, he had to force himself to nod. 

 

“Yeah. I’m fine.” He replied, “Just thinking.”

 

Even as he fixed his eyes back to his paper, he could still feel Ron’s concern boring right through him. It was beginning to get tiring. He felt as if he was putting on a constant one man show, the way people kept just  _ watching  _ him. Did they expect him to just start doing backflips or something? He hated having everybody  _ fussing  _ over him. Even though they did it because they were worried most of the time, he just  _ hated  _ it. 

 

“I’m fine.” He lied again, “Honestly.”

 

At last, Ron turned his attention back to the teacher. Harry felt the sudden random urge to cry, but he managed to hold it all in - just barely. 

 

**********

 

“See you guys in a minute.” Harry muttered to Ron and Hermione, they were hovering behind in the classroom with him, even though all the other students had raced for the door the moment the bell had sounded. 

 

They left hesitantly, leaving Harry alone with McGonagall and Neville. She was talking to him about some spells to practice, Harry felt as if he was eavesdropping when Neville replied, telling her how rubbish he was at everything. 

 

“Longbottom, all it needs is practice.” McGonagall replied. She was still stern, she always was, but there was definite kindness there. “Practice makes perfect.”

 

Harry waited patiently as she continued to talk to Neville, not really caring that he was missing some of his break. Break always consisted of nearly walking into Draco anyway, or watching him as he sat as close to Pansy as humanly possible. Well, Pansy was the one doing the clinging. Harry always felt extremely sour when he saw the pair of them, he thought Pansy was very similar to a leech, gross and slimy as it clung onto Draco, sucking everything out of him. By the time Neville had left the classroom and the Transfiguration professor turned to face Harry, he had fallen back into yet another one of his absences. This kept happening. He just overthought so much about every little thing that he would dig a huge tunnel in his mind, before he knew it he may as well have been somewhere else. 

 

“ _ Potter _ .” The same firm voice from earlier on cut through his thoughts, and Harry jerked, suddenly alert. 

 

“Sorry.” He said, “Lost in thought.”

 

“That seems to be happening a lot.” She replied, before gesturing to a chair. 

 

Harry sat down, avoiding her eyes as she sat down opposite him. He had his eyes fixed on a vaguely interesting patch of floor, unsure on where else he could look. At first he hadn’t minded staying behind, but now he was beginning to feel a little nervous. He didn’t like having conversations with teachers, he had found. Just the day before, Umbridge had given him detention for saying she was wrong, saying that he wasn’t lying about Voldemort. He didn’t even care, but their ‘talk’ hadn’t been pleasant. Absent mindedly, Harry put his hands deep into his lap, hiding the shining scar that had appeared on the back of his hand. 

 

_ I must not tell lies _ it wrote. 

 

The thing was, he knew that it was wrong. He knew that it was  _ awful _ , but in a way… the pain had been sort of pleasant. Something to take his mind off of the pain in his heart. It was like a satisfaction, feeling the sting of blood.

 

“Potter.” McGonagall said again, but she paused for a moment before continuing. “ _ Harry _ .”

 

Her using his first name made him pay more attention, and he reluctantly lifted his gaze to meet hers. He was surprised when he found it filled with warmth and genuine concern. 

 

“It’s come to my attention, and not just my own, that you are quite distracted these days.” 

 

Harry just nodded, unsure on what he was supposed to say in response to that. Explain himself?  _ Sorry miss, I’m just madly in love with a boy who hates my guts and it’s all my fault that he does because like usual, I ruined everything. Now I am too miserable to even function and I don’t think I’ll ever be the same again.  _ No, that sounded a bit too much, especially to declare all this to his teacher. 

 

“Harry, we’re all being lenient. I understand you have suffered a great trauma, it’s a wonder you’re even managing to walk around on two sane feet.”

 

_ Just barely _ , Harry thought. 

 

“But the lack of focus is beginning to be quite a concern. And as your head of house, I want you to know that- well. If you need me, you always know where I am.”

 

Harry wished that this touched him. It was one of the incredibly rare moments where McGonagall let her kinder side show, her empathy shining through. She was being so nice to him. But it just made him feel agitated. The conversation was getting too close to issues he really didn’t want to discuss. The only trauma he was going through was a broken heart, which just made him sound pathetic. How was something as stupid as that hurting him more than having to face the Dark Lord, seeing his friend shot down dead before his eyes, and having the entire Wizarding community thinking he was actually insane? He felt almost sickened at his own feelings. 

 

“Thanks Professor.” He said awkwardly, hearing how ungrateful he sounded and hating himself for it. “But I’m really fine. You don’t have to be worried about me.” He tried for a smile, but wasn’t all that successful. 

 

She raised her eyebrows, studying him. “If that’s true, can you tell me why exactly all of your grades are dropping at a concerningly fast rate?” The clipped, stern tone had returned to her voice, and surprisingly, that made Harry feel better. He didn’t want people treating him differently,  he didn’t want the whole word tiptoeing around him.

 

“I’m sorry.” Harry said flatly, “I don’t know. I’m just- I’m fine.” It was all lies, and of course, McGonagall didn’t buy it whatsoever. She analysed him a little further, stretching the silence, waiting if he decided to tell her the truth about the problems that were repeatedly scratching at his brain. When he said nothing though, she sighed. 

 

“If you say so.” She said. “In that case, I expect your work to improve over the coming weeks. OWLS are this year, after all.”

 

Taking that at his dismissal, Harry rose to his feet and headed for the door, exhaling a huge breath of relief. He hadn’t realised he was even holding one, but as he was leaving the room he felt as if he had just escaped something that could have turned ugly. Ugly as in he could have just burst into tears. Whenever people asked how he was these days, he just felt the urge to cry. 

 

“And Potter?” He turned as she called after him. “Please avoid arguing with Professor Umbridge. I don’t think that’d be good for any of us.”

 

Her tone went a little dark, and Harry almost smiled when he realised that it wasn’t only the students who weren’t all that fond of the new Defence Against The Dark Arts teacher. 

 

“Yes, Professor.” He replied, closing the door behind him. 

 

*********

 

Harry sat in the crowded Gryffindor common room with Ron and Hermione, they’d managed to find themselves one of the comfier sofas over near the fires. It would have been very pleasant - if the room wasn’t quite so full of students who Harry knew weren’t his biggest fans at the moment, glowering in his direction. The fact that he had one of the best seats in the room wasn’t doing very well for his popularity rate. Not to mention the way Ron and Hermione kept bickering about rubbish. Wordlessly, he got to his feet, reaching for his cloak. He’d taken it off under the sweltering heat of the blazing fire, but he knew it would be a lot colder out in the castle. 

 

Frowning, Hermione asked, “Where are you off to?”

 

“Walking.” Harry replied. 

 

At first, they would have asked him to stay, or offered to go with him and risked getting caught by Filch just so that he wasn’t alone. Now, though, over the few weeks that they had been back at Hogwarts, Ron and Hermione had started to accept that all Harry wanted was to be alone. They didn’t push him, they tried to be understanding. He still felt bad, but there was nothing he could do about that really. So he walked over to the portrait hole, ignoring the stares following his every movement, stepping through without a glance back. 

 

He knew he was being unfair. His own sadness had made him one of the worst friends, he never initiated conversation, he never wanted to spend time with them, he didn’t show any interest in anything that they did. When they tried to be kind he either ignored it or lashed out, unable to handle people being nice to him. The problem was, Harry knew he didn’t  _ deserve _ anyone being nice to him. He was a horrible person, he just knew it, he did so many cruel things. They way he had treated everyone… the way he had treated Draco. And it had got him this, this lonely and sad numbness that took over every single waking inch of his body. Even if it was unbearable, he felt like he deserved it. Just like he deserved the itching, bleeding cut on the back of his hand that just kept getting worse. Umbridge loved torturing him with her cruel quill. 

 

It always happened that Harry would walk towards the side of the castle where the Slytherin dungeons were. He didn’t mean to, he didn’t plan out his route, he just wandered as his mind did the same, and he  _ always  _ ended up there. Sometimes he would notice and instantly turn and walk in the opposite direction as quickly as possible, sometimes he would just carry on. This day, he did the latter. Even though he didn’t really register the thoughts, he was imagining what would happen if he ran into Draco. Now that they were alone in the dead of night when everybody was in their dorms so that they didn’t get in trouble for breaking curfew, maybe Draco would stay. 

 

As he walked up and down the stone hallways, he instinctively looked left and right into each arching doorway to each classroom. All of them were empty, and Harry was beginning to think his hopeless dream of sorting things out was completely unlikely, but that was a thought he instantly regretted being upset about. He froze in his tracks at one doorway, feeling everything in his body twist in pain. His stomach, his chest, his head, his eyes. He should have just gone back to the dorms. Because… nothing hurt him as much as this. 

 

Draco was in there. But he wasn’t alone. Pansy had her back to Harry, and she was lying flat across a table, arched ever so slightly, her hand holding onto Draco’s hair tightly. He was in between her legs, and Harry could even hear her moans of pleasure. He could just barely hear her though, his ears were mostly filled by a very sharp ringing, he felt as if he was about to collapse, he was weak. He had convinced himself that nothing was going on, that they were just  _ friendly _ , not… not this. 

Then, to make matters even worse, Draco sat up. He wasn’t enjoying it. He was smiling, but Harry knew Draco. It was all false, he could see in his eyes that it wasn’t true, it was a facade just to please  _ Pansy _ . Harry knew he should leave, but he couldn’t tear himself away. As much as it hurt him, he just  _ couldn’t _ . He stood frozen on the spot, even though now, Draco was looking right at him. 

 

Time slowed down, seconds stretched into eternities of feelings cascading and tearing through his mind and his soul. They were staring at each other, Pansy in between them, still moaning and gasping. Harry didn’t know what to do - what would happen if Pansy saw him? The thought alone terrified him, but he just couldn’t fight it. He couldn’t leave. He wanted to say something, he wanted Draco to  _ acknowledge  _ him. But then, Pansy reached up, and her hand with manicured talons returned to Draco’s face, pulling him down to kiss her. 

 

Draco didn’t even try to resist her, he just leaned down and their lips met. That break of eye contact pulled Harry out of his icy stature, and he blinked. The moment was over in seconds. And suddenly Harry was crying. 

 

Tears pooled down his cheeks in raging streams, and he clapped a hand to his mouth in a desperate attempt to keep his hiccoughing sobs in. He turned and he sprinted down the hallway, not sure where he was going, he just knew he had to get away from  _ that _ . Part of him hoped that Draco would come running after him, but he knew that would never happen in a million lifetimes. He didn’t care about the sound of his footsteps pounding on the floor, he didn’t care that anybody could have seen him. He just wanted to run and run and run. He was outside before he even realised, and then his eyes fell on the Whomping Willow. 

 

He remembered the first time he met Draco alone, they had crawled through to the Shrieking Shack… it felt so long ago now. It was so long since he had  _ touched  _ Draco, been with him, felt him, heard him… and Pansy just had him all the time. He felt cheated. 

 

And the worst thing was, he had no right to feel angry. They weren’t together, they hadn’t been for ages, and it was all his fault. He was the one who had ended everything, he was the one who hurt Draco first. 

  
Not caring about the curfew, not caring about what everyone would think if they saw him, Harry collapsed onto the ground and he cried. He cried more than he had done probably ever. This pain was different to all the other pain he had survived throughout his life. This one was stabbing and numbing all at once. The night was silent but for his own weeps and wails that filled the air, along with the memories he held so dearly of whispered nights with Draco that seemed to be playing live before his eyes; on a massive cinema screen so there was no looking away. 


	17. sing you're sorry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The moment you've all been waiting for! :D thank you so much to everyone who has reviewed, left kudos, subscribed, bookmarked - it means the world.

Harry didn’t remember going back to the common room, but it seemed that he cried out every single possible teardrop before returning. He walked in to find it practically empty compared to how it had been earlier, it was very late. He was frozen, his cloak too thin for curling up on the ground outside around this time of year, his skin was cold to the touch and his teeth were still chattering. Seamus and Dean were sat nearby the portrait hole, and the now familiar burning bore of Seamus’ glare was digging into Harry’s back, but he didn’t care. At least they weren’t in the dorm and he would have some privacy as he got ready for bed. He made his way up the staircase to their door, opening it and wanting so badly to just crash. However, he couldn’t. Ron was sat up on his own bed, doing some reading for Charms. 

 

“Alright?” He asked in greeting, not looking up at first. When Harry said nothing, though, he glanced up and then his eyes widened. “What the hell have you been doing, mate?” He asked. 

 

Harry knew he probably looked a mess, blue lips and puffy eyes and tear stained cheeks, but he didn’t care. He wanted to reply but he seemed unable to form words, so he just shuffled over to his bed. 

 

“Oi!” Ron said, affronted, “Don’t ignore me.” 

 

“Sorry.” Harry said, he sounded nothing short of exhausted to his own ears. He had his back to his best friend, rooting through his things for something to wear to bed. “I was just walking.”

 

“Yeah, I know  _ that _ . But you look like you’ve seen a ghost or something.” 

 

Harry bowed his head, not wanting to let anything get out. He  _ had  _ seen a ghost - the ghost of Draco and Pansy. He had thought that fling ended months ago now, when Draco decided he only wanted Harry. And now it was back, coming to haunt him, to make every waking moment even more painful than it already was. He was completely silent, but it had gone on for too long. The silence and the tiptoeing, it was too much, even for Ron. He got to his feet and circled around to the other side of Harry’s bed, standing opposite so that Harry had no choice but to look at him. 

 

“What have you been doing?” He repeated, cringing a little when he realised he sounded almost as stern as his mother. He felt bad instantly, biting his lip, not wanting to have offended Harry. “Mate, you can’t- you can’t keep doing this to yourself.” 

 

“Doing what?” Harry muttered, still not quite meeting his gaze. 

 

“Punishing yourself!” Ron replied like it was obvious, shaking his head in bewilderment. “Harry, I don’t know what it is, I don’t if it’s you blaming yourself for Cedric and You-Know-Who, and I know things are tough these days but… Harry. Look at me.”

 

Harry didn’t want to look at him. He didn’t want to look up and see the sad, lonely face of the best friend he abandoned. They were together every day, but emotionally, Harry wasn’t there. Ron tried to be as good as he could be, and Harry gave nothing back in return. He wished he could, but… the sadness had taken over. He just felt like he had no  _ time  _ to be worrying about friendship and things that mattered, he was a lot more content walking the corridors alone, miserable. Reluctantly, though, he lifted his head. Ron’s eyes were wide, concerned. 

 

“Harry, you’re my best friend. I just- I just want to  _ help _ . You’re not alone.” 

 

And he knew that. Harry knew he wasn’t alone. He didn’t have his parents, Cedric was dead and… Draco wanted nothing to do with him. Draco would rather have Pansy. But he really wasn’t alone, he had Ron and Hermione, he had Sirius, all of the Weasley’s, Hagrid, Dumbledore and even McGonagall. But none of them were who he wanted. He felt lonelier than ever. Something about Ron’s pleading though did actually move him. If he hadn’t spent ages crying every single sad lonely tear out of him, he probably would have shed a few more. It was quiet. 

 

Harry wanted to reply. He wanted to show Ron that he was grateful, and that he didn’t mean to shut him out. But words wouldn’t come. He just wanted to sleep it all away - sleeping was easier. It was the perfect opportunity for him to be honest. He could just tell Ron everything, the more he kept it secret, the more it would hurt when he accidentally let slip that he was madly in love with Draco Malfoy and Ron was upset that Harry hadn’t trusted him enough to tell. But… he just  _ couldn _ ’ _ t _ . 

 

Ron sighed. It was a very heavy sigh, weighted down with frustration, sadness,  _ loneliness _ . He stayed there a moment longer, watching Harry closely,  _ waiting _ . It was no use though, Harry wasn’t going to open up, that was clear. With a tired slowness, Ron turned and went back to his bed. He got under the covers and turned his back to Harry, sleeping facing the wall, with a blanket pulled up over his head. 

 

For a second, Harry parted his lips, trying to think of what to say. Sorry for making the friendship so rubbish, sorry for being rubbish in general. He didn’t mean to be like he was, which just made it even worse. It was just who he was now. Boring, unavailable, uncaring, a living ghost, an empty shell. But that was a bit hard to put into words.

 

*********

 

Another night just meant more walking around the school for Harry, neglecting the schoolwork he had piling up on his desk in the dorm, not caring about McGonagall’s warning to start trying. He had just gotten out of detention with Umbridge - earlier on that day, she had given him one for not paying attention in class. She was always dishing out detentions, in fact, he didn’t think he’d gone one lesson with her and not gotten one. Each hour spent just meant more stinging pain in the back of his hand, and he still said nothing to anybody about it. The pain just got more and more satisfactory. Of course, he was being extra careful to not go anywhere near the Slytherin side of the castle, he didn’t want to see anything else. He hadn’t seen Draco in class for the past four days, but he had seen Pansy, flouncing around the castle as if she had done nothing wrong. Part of him was concerned, wondering what the matter was with Draco, whether he was sick or just couldn’t be bothered to go to lessons. He wasn’t at lunch or dinner either, not that he was looking… 

He walked in comfortable quiet, the only sound being his footsteps against stone, alone with his thoughts. At some point, he blinked, looking around at his surrounds. He didn’t think he had ever been to this part of the castle before. 

 

It seemed very serene, peaceful and distant from everything else, there were some paintings on the walls, and very quiet piano keys being played beautifully. At first, he assumed it was some kind of record, but then he realised he was near where the orchestra practiced. It was probably coming from there. He thought he should have just turned and walked the other way to avoid anybody seeing him - the whole reason he came out on these walks was so that he didn’t have to see any people, didn’t have to talk to anyone. However, something about the music just pulled him in, it seemed to make his heart race a little, something it hadn’t done for a very long time. It seemed to be enchanting him, the ivories being played had never really made Harry feel anything, he didn’t care that much for music to be quite honest. Yet he felt himself being reeled in like a fish on a hook, being dragged to the practice room.

 

Peering around the door, he scanned the room, eyes resting on the grand piano towards the back of the room. It was on a slight raised platform, and he gasped a little when he saw who was sat at the bench. 

 

Draco was moving his hands gracefully, they were dancing across the keys playing something gentle that Harry vaguely recognised, gentle but full of variations, still managing to be completely beautiful. The piano bench sat facing the doorway, but thankfully Draco was too focused on the music to notice that he wasn’t alone. He looked so concentrated, and so involved in the music, swaying ever so slightly. Through the concentration, though, there was a certain sadness, an obvious connection to the sounds he was making. Harry really knew he should leave, they hadn’t spoken once since getting back to school and… well. Draco was with Pansy now. Harry didn’t particularly fancy talking to Draco either, after that immense betrayal.  But… He couldn’t pull himself away.  He stood on the spot, transfixed as he watched and marvelled at how breathtakingly gorgeous Draco looked as he played. He was naked, his entire soul pouring out of him, his guard down. He looked vulnerable, he looked like a fallen angel. 

 

The music came to a sudden stop, the song seeming to end midway with a jarring clunk. Harry flinched, the silence seeming to jolt him back to real life and he realised that Draco was looking straight back at him. He thought about just slipping away but… it was the perfect opportunity. And Draco wasn’t running away, he stayed seated. His face was unreadable, no fear, no sadness, no  _ mean _ ness - just completely empty. Hollow. Much like how Harry looked the majority of the time. 

 

“I-” Harry started speaking before he even thought about it, not sure what he was going to say, and he had to pause to clear his throat anyway because the word came out croaking. “...I didn’t know you could play piano.”

It sounded lame the moment it fell from his lips but he had no clue what else he could even say. It was the first thing he’d said directly to Draco for almost two months of being at school. 

Speaking that thought aloud made Harry realise it even more. He didn’t even know Draco had a talent like that, and that was pure talent. He knew nothing about Draco, he realised. And that wouldn’t stop him from loving him - even if he  _ shouldn’t  _ love him. When Draco didn’t even reply, it made Harry’s embarrassment at  _ that  _ being what he said increase more and more. 

 

His shoulders slumped. Any glimmer of hope blacked out. It was no use, Draco would never forgive him. He was about to give up, to turn and leave as if he had never been there at all, but Draco stopped him. 

 

“I don’t very well.” He said, “It’s just a hobby.”

 

Harry froze. Draco’s voice… it sounded so - so  _ lost _ . Unsure. But he was speaking to him. That was a start. Maybe it was a very very bad attempt at first conversation, there were no apologies that were due, there was so much to be said. But it was good enough. Slowly, he walked further into the room, nearing Draco where he sat by the piano. 

 

“It sounded more than well.” Harry said, “I mean- it sounded really good. Beautiful. I liked it. You should play more. I mean-” he stopped, shaking his head. His thoughts were all jumbled, he’d forgotten how to string words together to form any kind of coherent sentence. 

 

“There’s definitely room for improvement.” Draco said softly. He was looking at Harry with misted eyes, they were a little squinted as if he was looking at a particularly bright light. 

 

The talking drew to a close. Well, it was more like an ajar door. Almost completely shut but there was hope for more conversation. And Harry really, really wanted that. He couldn’t even believe that this was happening. He couldn’t believe that finally, after all this time, he was speaking to Draco again. It seemed like eternities that they were nothing but school enemies, bickering constantly. 

 

The attempts at conversations that didn’t matter no longer interested Harry. He had to be honest. He’d held everything on his shoulders for too long, he was about to crash and he knew he would feel his bones shatter into a million pieces if he didn’t get everything out. 

 

“I miss you.” He said, so fast that Draco nearly didn’t quite catch the words, but he just about got it. 

 

He was watching Draco closely. He felt like a hunter, when their prey finally gets close, and time goes tense and stilted, trying his hardest not to frighten the catch away. Although, Draco was a lot more than a catch. If he hadn’t been so attentive, he wouldn’t have noticed Draco’s very slight nodding of the head. Like he was agreeing. Like he missed Harry as well. 

 

“I guess you’re not that up for talking.” Harry said, “But I am. And- and I don’t know what I’m saying. I’m just rambling, I’m sorry, but- you’re here. And you’re not running away and I have to say this. Maybe if I say it, it won’t hurt quite so much.”

 

He paused again. Draco was no longer looking at him. He was staring at the piano keys, he looked pained. He looked sad. Harry then realised, he hadn’t been this close to Draco since the moment he shouted at him as he cried, blaming him for everything. The memory stabbed at his mind. But Draco looked like a vampire - his skin was a chalky white, the shadows of his eyes a very very deep, hollow purple. He was a lot thinner, and his hair needed cutting. But he still looked beautiful. Of course he did, it was Draco. 

 

“I’m sorry for everything I said. I completely understand why you hate me, and I understand why you would rather fuck Pansy than have anything to do with me.” Draco winced. “But Draco, I’m so sorry. And I don’t know how many times I have to say it, I don’t even know how to explain myself. I hate myself as much as you must hate me Draco, because, what I did- that was awful. And it’s the biggest regret of my life. Getting rid of you, not having  _ you _ , it’s killing me. I may as well be six feet underground already.”

 

He finished, panting a little as if he had just ran marathon. He was exhausted again, tired after reliving every single painful moment out loud. Draco looked confused, sad, lost, unsure. He was looking at Harry again. Harry stared straight back. Silent. 

 

In an uncalculated move of desperation, Harry sunk down to his knees. “I understand if you never forgive me. But please tell me you’re hearing me. Please tell me you know just how sorry I am. I’m begging you. Just- just  _ say something _ . Tell me you hate me, please! It’s better than silence.”

 

He had never spoken so many words in such a short amount of time and the stress of it all made him want to lift his hands to his head to tear at his messy black hair, he had tears streaming down his cheeks. Draco looked incredibly crestfallen. He still said nothing. Harry was beginning to think it was all for nothing, and that he had just humiliated himself. Honestly, he was literally on his  _ knees _ , he looked pathetic, a complete and utter mess. Draco got up. Harry held his breath, wondering if he was just going to walk off, leaving Harry alone in the practice room.

 

He stepped around the piano, and he sunk down to his own knees as well, right in front of Harry. They were level, their faces so close that they could feel each other breathing. Then, he lifted his hand, and his fingers ever so faintly reached to trace the shape of Harry’s jaw. His touch was enough to make Harry say  _ “Oh”,  _ startled. 

 

It was like a drug addict getting their first hit in months.  _ Years _ . A confusing feeling, almost painful, but it was so good at the same time. He leaned into it, closing his eyes. Draco’s thumb stroked lightly across Harry’s cheek, wiping at the tears there. 

 

“You’re a fucking idiot, you know that, right?” He asked. 

 

Harry almost laughed. Through his sobs he laughed, and the cries turned to ones of relief. He opened his eyes, seeing Draco almost  _ marvelling  _ at him. 

 

“I understand why you would blame me, Harry.” He said, his voice was so soft, he sounded so fragile. “I’m terrible. I’m evil. Son of a death eater. I don’t blame you for hating me.”

 

Suddenly the overwhelming relief Harry had been feeling was snatched straight back, replaced with the realisation that Draco genuinely hated himself more. And thought Harry hated him. 

 

“No, no that’s not true.  _ I’m  _ the terrible one, for accusing you of something like that. I-”

 

But he was silenced. Draco’s lips were against his in a flash, and they were kissing like never before. They hadn’t sorted everything out, Harry didn’t even know if Draco forgave him (though that seemed likely giving how he was kissing him) but he didn’t care anymore. Every single hardship he had just floated away, the constant pain in the back of his hand was instantly vanished, the sick and uncertain weight in the pit of his stomach that he had stopped realising because it seemed so natural eased away and he felt so free. They didn’t have time for talking. They were on their deathbeds, the only thing keeping them going was the feeling of one another. Lightly, Draco pushed Harry back so that he was lying on the cold classroom floor, but he felt entirely warm thanks to Draco. He was leaning over the Gryffindor boy, kissing him as his hands flew to the buttons of his shirt, undoing each one, exposing Harry’s chest. It suddenly felt so natural and so familiar, yet still so foreign and forbidden. His lips made a path down down down, soon they were teasing at the waistband of Harry’s trousers. 

 

Before, Harry had always been the one doing the actual sucking. But now, Draco was starving. With a look to Harry to make sure it was okay, he continued, pulling at the fabric of Harry’s clothes and his boxers. Soon he was completely naked, and Draco had Harry’s member in his hand. He was kissing it at first, and when he looked up at and met Harry’s gaze, the latter disintegrated. 

 

Everything was okay again. Worries of death eaters and Umbridge and You-Know-Who didn’t even exist, it was all okay. He melted into Draco, the pair of them a puddle of moans of pleasure and gasps of delight. Harry couldn’t help but think of seeing Draco with Pansy - he didn’t look at all like he did now. 

 

Then, he had looked uninterested, he had looked a little miserable to be quite honest. Now he looked like he was alive, his eyes were gleaming and filled with pure affection, he moved with a passionate speed, every single movement he made seemed wild yet calculated all at once. He definitely knew what he was doing, as he flitted his tongue Harry groaned out, deep and definitely not tame. They seemed to forget they were in the middle of a school and there was a chance anybody could walk in, in that moment it was just the two of them in their own little bubble. 

 

It was over far too soon. Once Harry had released, they were quiet for a while, not including their rapid breaths, they couldn’t keep them under control, gasps of air escaping their mouths at every interval. For a moment, he was afraid that Draco would get up and leave him. 

 

Instead, the blond boy moved back to Harry’s face, still holding himself over him, their bodies touching. He leaned down, before they actually kissed, their lips brushed for a moment, and Draco’s teeth lightly grazed at Harry’s lower lip. It felt like time had stopped. The past tortured, lonely months no longer seemed to exist. Draco eventually couldn’t hold himself up anymore, he rolled to the side and lay flat on his back beside Harry, staring up at the ceiling. They were together again, it was like nothing had changed. Although everything had changed. 

 

Now that they were finished with  _ that _ , it was back to awkward silence. Neither of them knew what to say. Harry’s mind returned to the awkward bumbling stumbling thoughts. 

 

“So,” he said breathily, “Did you have a good Summer?” 

 

Surprisingly, Draco snorted with laughter. It was heavenly, Draco’s laugh - it was so rare, that when he did it, it sounded like secret music that only Harry’s ears knew. It also sounded like Draco hadn’t laughed in a very long time. 

 

“Yeah, good thanks. Other than trying to off myself.” 

 

He was laughing, his tone light, but there was definitely something hidden in the depths of his words. Frowning, Harry sat up bolt right, turning to face Draco. “Don’t say that.”

 

“What?”

 

“Don’t- don’t joke about things like that.”

 

“Didn’t you once tell me that my dark humour made me more interesting?” Draco said, teasing ever so slightly, but his eyes glinted. They were both sat, facing each other. 

 

Shaking his head, Harry’s lips shaped words he didn’t speak for a while. “Just- don’t, Draco. If you- if you seriously did something like that, if somebody else died because of me it would be bad enough, but if it was  _ you _ …”

 

“Alright.” Draco said, sounding tired and like he just wanted Harry to shut up, the lightness already vanished from the air. Back to tense, unknown ground. 

 

Well, Harry knew they were no longer laughing, but he was exceptionally startled when he realised Draco’s chuckles had faded so that now he was  _ crying _ . Tears were falling silently down his cheeks, and he was shaking his head, he looked as if he was in deep disbelief.

 

“What is it?” Harry asked, his voice trembled. “What did I do?”

 

“You didn’t do anything.” Draco said, but his sobbing didn’t cease, if anything is just grew louder.

 

Harry wasn’t good at comforting crying people, especially when it was Draco. It hurt seeing him so sad, back before he thought Draco was completely emotionless and it was only recently he was starting to see that things weren’t so black and white. Draco was hurting. Thanks to Harry. 

 

“That was a mistake.” Draco sobbed. 

 

_ I knew it,  _ Harry thought,  _ He still hates me.  _

 

“I- I’ve missed you so much, Harry. I really have.”

 

“Then why are you crying!” Harry tried to fight his voice from getting louder, the uncommon ground was just making him lose his temper, he didn’t know what he was supposed to do and that frustrated him. “I’m right here.”

 

He waited, watching the scene unsettle. Draco hid his face, burying it into his knees which he had pulled up to his chest - he looked defensive, scared. Something made Harry want to just leave and run away, he clearly just made everything worse. But… 

 

He moved forwards. He was timid, he didn’t know where he stood with Draco. But he ever so gently touched his hand to Draco’s face, much like Draco had done earlier, lifting his head so that they were looking into one another’s eyes. 

 

“I’m right here.” He repeated, a lot more gentle that time. 

 

“But you  _ shouldn’t be! _ ” Draco said, and for a moment Harry stupidly thought he was actually meant to leave. But that wasn’t what Draco wanted. Not really. They were finally talking, they couldn’t leave with everything still unsettled.

 

“What do you mean?” Harry pleaded, desperate for Draco to stop crying. He hated people crying in front of him. 

 

“We can’t be together!” Draco said, “We don’t  _ work _ ! Do you seriously want to be with somebody who is at liberty to send you straight to your death? How could you blame me for that and still forgive me?”

 

Harry was just growing more and more confused. Nothing was making sense, Draco wasn’t making sense. For weeks he had looked as if he didn’t care, he shown no interest whatsoever, and now in such a short time he had completely unravelled; he had come undone. 

 

“I don’t blame you for that!” Harry protested, shaking his head. “I was a fucking idiot, I wanted someone to blame, and I lashed out!” 

 

He was growing more and more frantic, which really wasn’t helping. Slowly, he shook his head, closed his eyes, tried to regain his thoughts. He took some deep breaths. Then he spoke again, more level, more serious. 

 

“ _ Draco _ . I don’t blame you. I know you would never do anything to hurt me.”  _ Other than fuck Pansy… _

 

Reluctantly, Draco lifted his gaze again. His eyes were still pooled with tears as he stared at Harry. He frowned, looking very confused. 

 

“I care about you.” He said, he sounded so broken. Harry hadn’t realised quite what he had done. He had felt so alone with his pain and it turned out Draco felt just as bad. “Harry, I care about you more than anything. Without you I felt like I couldn’t breathe, everything just got worse. Part of me blamed you because you weren’t listening to me but- but it was me. I’m the evil one. It’s what I deserve.”

 

Harry felt the millionth stabbing feeling to his gut for that whole night. He was growing frustrated again. “Draco,  _ listen _ . I don’t blame you, and you’re not evil. You’re- you’re  _ Draco _ . Your family, they don’t define you. I’m not going to pretend I like what they are, but you’re not them.”

 

Draco said nothing, but his breaths slowed a little. His tears were still falling. 

 

“I’m surprised  _ you’re _ even forgiving  _ me _ for what I did, I ruined everything.”

 

Draco shook his head again. “I’ll always forgive you, Harry. When- when I thought you had died, I hated myself so much because I had ended it, because I hadn’t spent as long as possible with you before. And then you were alive, and I was so happy, but- but you weren’t. And that hurt me so much. But I’ll always forgive you.”

 

It sounded a little sad, heartbreaking even. Harry could do anything to Draco, and Draco would always stay. He’d never turn away. It made Harry want to shoot himself in the head, he had been so horrible to a boy who had been nothing but loving. 

 

“I wish we could just pretend the past few months didn’t happen.” Harry murmured. 

 

“Then let’s do it.” Draco said, a burning fury in his eyes, no more tears. “Just- none of it happened. We both apologise, we both forgive each other…”

 

“You have nothing to apologise for.” Harry whispered. “Why don’t you see that? You’re not the bad guy here.”

Draco didn’t dispute that anymore, but he definitely didn’t agree. He just stayed quiet, closing his eyes as he pressed his forehead against Harry’s. The Gryffindor boy placed a feather light kiss on his nose, and Draco smiled ever so slightly. 

 

“You’ve been so sad.” Harry mumbled, “I didn’t know.”

 

“How could I not be?” Draco said, staring at Harry as if he was mad. 

 

“Well… I thought- you didn’t reply to my owl.”

 

There was a pause, Draco looked as if he had missed a beat. He frowned, shaking his head. He looked as if he was working something out, a particularly difficult problem. 

 

“What owl?” He asked eventually, and Harry really wanted to punch something. 

 

All of that stress about the owl, Draco not replying, and he hadn’t even  _ got it?  _ He wondered if maybe Hedwig had made a mistake but that wasn’t right… she definitely went to owl manor. 

 

“I sent you an owl. Apologising and asking if we could talk.” Harry said slowly, but Draco still wasn’t making a connection. “Please tell me you got it.”

 

“I didn’t get an owl. Until tonight I thought you still blamed me, that’s why I’ve not been speaking to you. I didn’t want to keep trying to plead my case if you weren’t going to believe it.”

 

Harry was filled with confusion and anger. He wanted to find out what had happened but… he didn’t at the same time. He was with Draco. They were okay again. Everything was alright. He let the thought go, visualising it slipping from his brain and crawling out of the door. He smiled. It felt real, not at all forced. 

 

“Oh well. None of it happened.”

 

“None of it happened.” Draco agreed. 

 

They sealed the deal with a kiss. 

 

They spent hours, talking about everything, kissing, laughing. They didn’t care that it was getting later and later and if they got caught they would get a week’s worth of detentions, they didn’t care that they had to be up early in the morning. They were catching up for lost time. By the time they came to their senses and decided they should get back to their dorms, the sun was close to rising. They left the room together, walking side by side until they reached the corner where they had to part ways. Harry didn’t want to leave. He wanted to kiss Draco goodbye but they couldn’t, not in the hallways where anybody could come walking by. That was the only downside to all of this - back to secrecy. 

 

“See you, then.” Harry said 

 

“Bye.”

 

Harry was the first to turn, and he was halfway down the hall when he heard Draco call his name. He turned to face him. 

 

“I never fucked Pansy.”

 

He wanted to reply. To ask what was going on then, point out the fact that they had looked very cosy the other day. But that was a conversation for another day. He just smiled. He was talking to Draco again. He had Draco again. All was right in the world. Well, maybe not, but it was a lot easier to pretend like so. 

 

“Good night.” Draco said, and then he turned and walked away too. 

  
Maybe, just maybe, everything would be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wish I could tell you that the last part was true...


	18. eventual crumble

 

The next few weeks went by in a whirlwind of happiness and joy. Ron and Hermione were very pleased (and curious) to find Harry back to his normal self - in fact, he was even more cheerful than his normal self. Somehow, this  _ still  _ managed to frustrate Hermione despite her satisfaction  - “Harry, aren’t you at all worried about Umbridge? She’s torturing students with that horrible quill and she isn’t teaching us how to defend ourselves  _ at all _ !”

 

Of course, Harry knew that she was right. He should have been concerned, and he also should have been wondering a lot more why Dumbledore was determinedly refusing to meet his eyes, what had gone wrong. He should have been getting furious every single time a new Daily Prophet came, another one with his face on the front page. Yes, these things were all on his mind, but he just didn’t have it in him to worry. He had Draco. They were meeting up at any given moment, finding abandoned corners of the castle, going back to the Room of Requirement like they hadn’t done for so long. It all seemed so perfect. That was why he didn’t want to think about anything else, he didn’t want to distract himself from the small bliss he had been lucky enough to get back. 

 

So he carried on, stealing nights away just with Draco. They didn’t talk about any of the bad things going on, they just enjoyed what they had. It was perfect, Harry laughed more than he had ever done, making up for all the months he had been unable to do so. There was still the concern of keeping everything secret, though. It had been three weeks since they had reconciled when the perfect, completely wholesome relationship soured ever so slightly. 

 

They were in the Room of Requirement, that day it had given them candles and a huge bed, one of their favourite settings. It was late, but they didn’t care. They still hadn’t had sex, but each time just seemed to grow more and more heated. Both of them wanted to, but they hadn’t had that conversation. Honestly, Harry thought maybe it scared him a little, and maybe it scared Draco as well. 

 

“There was something I wanted to talk to you about.” Draco said, his voice soft as he pulled away from Harry’s kiss, still holding onto him lightly though. He was being gentle, and Harry had to quickly try and prepare himself for whatever he could have been about to say. 

 

It sounded serious, and whenever they tried to have serious conversations it seemed to dissolve into them not speaking for weeks. 

 

“So talk.” Harry said reluctantly, he wished he could just carry on with the kissing. 

 

“My mum and dad have been asking questions. And- Harry, I think they maybe got your owl. What if they read it?” 

 

Harry frowned, “What sort of questions?” He thought back to that hasty note he had scribbled all that time ago now, saying sorry. He had signed it with his name. Immediately his heart began to hammer against his chest, almost painful. He moved away from Draco’s touch, getting to his feet and beginning to pace. “What do you mean? You mean they know about  _ us _ ?”

 

“I don’t know if they do.” Draco said, getting up himself. “But they keep asking me questions about Pansy and they’ve even invited her and her family round for Christmas next month.” 

 

That didn’t seem to scream to Harry that the Malfoy’s knew about their relationship, but he could tell by Draco’s expression that there was more. “What else?” He asked reluctantly, unsure if he wanted to know. 

 

“Well… it’s just- my mum. She keeps going on about how she’ll love me no matter what, as if- as if she knows I’m gay. But Dad is the opposite. He’s suddenly started being so obsessed with mentioning  _ girls.  _ ‘ _ What  _ girls  _ are interested in you Draco? I bet you have all the  _ girls  _ after you!”’ _

 

“And the letter?” Harry asked. 

 

“I’ve been thinking about it since you mentioned it and I don’t know how else it could be that I didn’t get it. Harry, if you signed it with your name and it was Hedwig - they probably know she is yours.” He paused, watching Harry to see his response, but Harry just stood shocked. He was glaring at the floor, thinking of what this could mean. 

 

“I don’t think they know for certain, if not… we’d both know. We’d know they were angry. So I think we just need to be careful.”

 

Harry shook his head in despair. Why could nothing ever go right? The pair of them could never go for a few weeks without something awful happening, something to cause a divide. He wouldn’t let it divide them again, not this time. Not ever. He didn’t want to be without Draco, the thought alone killed him. 

 

“We’ve already been careful!” Harry said. “We’ve been together nearly a year and I haven’t even been able to tell my best friends! We’ve been  _ so so  _ careful, Draco, how do we get any more careful than we already are?”

 

The only way he could think of to push them off the scent was if they just broke up entirely - nobody had ever even seen them together, surely? He had to ruin everything, he thought to himself. If he hadn’t sent that letter, or if he had actually  _ thought  _ before writing it… none of this would be happening. The bliss would still be there, but it had all died in one quick moment. 

 

Sighing, Draco shook his head, his brow creased as if he was thinking something through very very carefully. “There’s only one thing I can think of,” he said, “I think we just need cover.”

 

“What do you mean?” Harry asked warily. 

 

“Well- well I could continue dating Pansy. We don’t have to  _ do  _ anything, it’ll just be like always. Just tell her we’re dating and that’ll be it. I just have to be seen with her, that’s all. And you could find somebody too.”

 

Harry’s gut twisted. He had never quite gotten the image of Draco with Pansy that night out of his head, and now it just came rushing back. If he had to face the idea of Draco spending time with Pansy,  _ pretending  _ to date her… he felt sick. 

 

“No.” He said flatly, “Draco,  _ no _ . Don’t you realise how much that would hurt me? Seeing you with  _ her _ ?”

 

“But I won’t be doing anything with her!” Draco protested, “Harry, it’s the only thing that’ll make my parents stop being suspicious. And you can be with somebody too-”

 

“I don’t  _ want  _ to be with anybody else! It would be unfair to use somebody, and…” he hesitated, not wanting to say the rest, feeling it made him sound stupid. Draco moved closer to him though, looking interested. “I thought I was enough for you.” He finished in a small voice. 

 

Draco looked as if he was about to laugh, shaking his head incredulously. “You’re  _ more  _ than enough for me! Harry, look at me.”

 

At first he didn’t, so Draco repeated himself, moving to stand right in front of the other boy. He cupped his face in his hands, “Harry, I only want  _ you _ . I’ll never even  _ kiss  _ Pansy, never again. There’s nothing I regret more than doing what I did.”

 

Harry still didn’t want to say yes. He was very quiet, but… he knew it made sense. It would work in their favour, it would save them getting found out. He wished so desperately that it could be anyone but Pansy. He knew he was being stupid - Draco wouldn’t cheat on him. But he just couldn’t stand the idea of feeling distant from Draco again. Feeling like he wasn’t the only one he wanted. Glumly, he nodded his head, not meeting Draco’s eyes. 

 

“Hey.” Draco whispered, “Look at me.”

 

Reluctantly, Harry did. Whenever he looked into Draco’s eyes, he felt like he was about to melt into a pool of sweet honey. When they were alone, and it was only Harry seeing them, he felt like he was being given a gift. The rare sight of his grey eyes filled with a burning warmth, he always looked at Harry with such care. Then he wondered, with a stabbing pain through his temples, if Pansy got to see those eyes as well. He wanted to say no, he wanted to come up with another suggestion. 

 

He didn’t, though. The only other option was to break up completely. Draco tilted Harry’s chin, leaning in to place a kiss against his lips. Harry kissed back, letting his hands faintly caressed Draco’s face, his fingers teased lightly through his blond hair - Draco loved when he pulled with his hair. But Harry was the first to pull away. Usually they stayed a lot longer, but he wasn’t in the mood.

 

“Okay.” He said, “I’m going to go.”

 

“What?” Draco said, blinking. “But-”

 

“I just need to be alone.” Harry said. He always hated leaving Draco, he always looked so lost. Now a lot more so than ever. It felt like leaving on an argument even though they hadn’t really argued. 

 

“Are you angry at me?” Draco asked, he sounded very small. 

 

Harry shook his head. “No. Not at all.”

 

He leaned in, giving Draco another peck. He wasn’t angry. He just felt a little sad. He left the room without saying anything else, he couldn’t think of what to say. 

 

He hated having to keep everything so secret. He just wished he could be open with the boy he loved, he wished he didn’t have to be afraid of what people would think. He didn’t even care if people knew he was  _ gay _ , but Draco did. Harry couldn’t bear to think how Lucius would feel if he knew for certain that his son was gay. Something told him he wouldn’t take it very well. 

 

**********

 

When Harry got back to the common room, Hermione and Ron were sat together on one of the sofas, sitting closer than just friends would, but Harry chose not to mention that fact. He sort of wished he could just slip past them and go straight to bed, he wasn’t in the mood to talk. But the last time he had started slipping off to bed, it had turned into a constant thing, and he didn’t want to return to that miserable loneliness he had been trapped in. Just because he was a tiny bit sad about something to do with Draco, he couldn’t let himself fall away. So he walked over to them, calling a hello before he reached the sofa. He sat down beside Hermione, and then he realised maybe he should have stayed away after all. He felt as if he had just interrupted a very serious conversation. 

 

“What?” He asked, “What are you two talking about?”

 

He watched with wary eyes as the two of them exchanged a look, and then turned to face him again. Hermione looked sort of hopeful though - well, it was the look she got in her eyes when she had thought of something, some kind of idea or clue, and was working it through her mind like a puzzle. 

 

Eventually, Ron said, “You may as well just ask him, Hermione. Get it over with.”

 

Harry’s stomach churned. What if he hadn’t been careful  _ at all _ ? If there was a possibility that Draco’s parents knew something, wouldn’t it be even more possible that Ron and Hermione had noticed? They were his best friends after all. And now they had him cornered and they were going to ask him, and he couldn’t even deny it - he couldn’t lie to them. He could keep secrets fine, but he couldn’t directly  _ lie _ . And there was no way out of it… his breaths started to hitch, he was working incredibly hard to keep his face composed. He tried to think of something he could say as an excuse, or how he would explain to them that he no longer saw Draco as an enemy, actually he hadn’t done for almost a year, and even though he had never said it to his face he thought that he was madly in love with him.

 

“It’s just, Harry,” Hermione started slowly, her pace wasn’t really doing Harry any favours. You’d think it’d give him time to think up something, but it just meant he panicked more and more. “We were talking, and… you see, the way things are at the moment, it’s just-”

 

“We think you should start running your own Defence lessons.” Ron said for her, and Hermione shot him an immense look of gratitude. 

 

Almost spluttering with relief, Harry didn’t even realise what they said at first, just that it  _ wasn’t  _ anything to do with Draco. That lasted only a second though, he immediately frowned. 

 

“What do you mean?” He asked. 

 

“We aren’t learning anything at all with Umbridge! We need a proper  _ teacher _ , we all need to know how to defend ourselves! With You-Know-Who back, we need it more than ever, and when we  _ do _ , we get landed with  _ her _ !” Hermione exclaimed, turning frantic. She got to her feet like she was giving an inspirational speech, rounding to face the sofa. “Harry, you’re easily the best in the year- no, the best in the  _ school _ .”

 

“She’s right.” Ron chimed in. 

 

“Just because she’s our teacher, it doesn’t mean we all have to fail! We have you right here, so why don’t you teach us?” 

 

Harry frowned. It sort of made sense, if they had somebody perfectly able of teaching them, then they may as well have used them. But there was no way that somebody was him. “You mean you want  _ me  _ to teach you two? Like, give you lessons?”

 

They both nodded, looking at him as if he was stupid. Hermione looked ready to just get down on her knees and beg him. Awkwardly, he sat up straighter, eyes flying from one to the other, one to the other. 

 

“Guys, I appreciate it, but there’s no  _ way _ I know enough to be your  _ teacher _ . I’m rubbish in class-”

 

“Not in defence.” Ron objected, “You get the best grades. And-” he broke off. 

 

“What?” Harry asked. 

 

“You’ve faced You-Know-Who and  _ survived _ . You’ve faced death eaters, you got through the Triwizard Tournament and  _ won _ .” Hermione pointed out.

 

Harry didn’t see that as winning, but he got her point. Still, he didn’t quite see how he could teach them, he didn’t even really know himself how he had done all of that. But… well. Maybe he wasn’t cutting himself enough slack. And he definitely wanted his best friends to be able to defend themselves in the unfortunately likely scenario that they have to protect themselves from evil. 

 

“So… I teach you two?” He asked again. 

 

“Yes.” Hermione nodded eagerly, “And- and others. If they want to join.”

 

Hesitating, Harry almost shook his head again, but he saw the desperation in his best friend’s gleaming eyes. When Hermione had an idea, she stuck to it. 

 

“Who’d want to be taught by me?” He asked. “Everybody hates me.”

 

“That’s not true, mate.” Ron said, “The Creevey’s have a fan club for you.”

 

For a second, Harry got distracted, wondering if that was actually true. He quickly returned to the matter at hand though. He didn’t know if it would even work, and if Umbridge found out she could probably get him kicked out of Hogwarts. But… it was partially thanks to him that Voldemort was even resurrected. Maybe it was the least he could do. 

 

“Alright then.” He said slowly, “I’ll do it. If anyone actually shows up, I’ll do it.”

 

He felt a little better than he had done after leaving Draco, if a little wary. Seeing how happy it made Ron and Hermione, though, was worth it. He listened as she began to rattle off plans, a list of ideas, she had clearly been prepared for his agreement for ages in advance. As he listened, Harry smiled - and then felt the faint stinging in the back of his hand. Absent mindedly, he rubbed at it, satisfying the itch there for just a second. Maybe now that he had Draco back, it was time to start worrying about the other things. Maybe it was time he stood his ground - Umbridge couldn’t destroy him and she never would. 

 

“I have the perfect place we can practice.” Harry said excitedly when Hermione began to wonder out loud where they could possibly do it. “The Room of Requirement.”

 

He hadn’t told anybody about the room whatsoever, he only knew that it existed thanks to Draco which made it feel as if it was their little secret. But Draco wouldn’t mind, not for this circumstance anyway. And it wouldn’t be the same room as it was for them - it would be completely different. He was a little surprised when Hermione’s eyes widened in awe. 

 

“You found it?” She asked. 

 

“Found what?” 

 

“The room of requirement of course!” Hermione said, “Also known as the come and go room! I’ve been wondering where it is ever since I first read Hogwarts A History! How did you find out about it? Why did you never tell us?” 

 

She was talking very fast as she always did when she was interested in something, but her interest just made Harry feel a little panicked. He felt his cheeks heat up as he shrugged, “Read it somewhere.”

 

There was no way he could tell her how he  _ actually  _ knew about it. That Draco had shown it to him when they were looking for somewhere private, somewhere where nobody would ever walk in on them. 

 

She was frowning, finding it a little hard to believe that Harry knew something about the school that she didn’t no doubt. Harry immediately tried to change the subject, hoping to smooth over the moment. She let him, instead they started talking about how they would spread the word around that they were doing the lessons, but there had been intrigue on her face. Harry gulped. There were too many close shaves with this relationship, way too many. 

 

********

 

Harry had been very pleasantly surprised a few days later when he got a note from Draco. It had founds its way onto his table somehow in the middle of History of Magic, and it certainly brightened up the incredibly dull lesson. It wasn’t just the letter - they had successfully managed to form their new Defence club as well. Well, Draco wasn’t involved in that. Harry had definitely taken it as a good thing, though, when so many people had shown up. It had made him really see that he wasn’t quite as hated as he had previously thought. They had agreed on a meeting place for the first lesson, and they’d even named it - Dumbledore’s Army. So yes, Harry was already in a considerably good mood; made even better as he unfolded the tiny square of parchment. 

 

He smiled as he read Draco’s elegant, sloping words -

 

_ Astronomy Tower  _

_ 11pm tonight.  _

_ :) D _

The pair of them hadn’t really been alone together since Draco had brought up the idea of using other people as beards, and even then, seeing that Pansy was sat right on the edge of Draco’s chair made him clench his fists, but he tried his hardest to shove that feeling of resentment down. 

 

“What’s that you’re reading?” 

 

Harry almost fell off of his chair as Ron moved in closer to him - he had to stop losing himself in the thought of being with Draco. He kept getting caught out, he slammed the note down on the table with a much louder bang than he had meant. It meant everybody turned to look at them and Binns reprimanded them. At first, this frustrated Harry, but then he realised it was a good thing. Ron zipped his mouth shut, not asking any more questions. Feeling his flaming hot skin, it was as if he had just run in a marathon. Even though Ron wasn’t asking any more questions, he still looked suspicious, staring sidewards about Harry. Determinedly, Harry just kept his down for the entirety of the lesson. It was probably the first time he had ever taken notes in History of Magic since he first stepped into the classroom. 

 

***********

 

The boys lay at the top of the astronomy tower, they were underneath the open ceiling where they got the most perfect and beautiful view of the moonlit sky. It was a purple velvet patterned with shimmering diamonds of stars. Sometimes, seeing the universe so whole would have made Harry feel so tiny and so alone - but now that he was Draco, it felt impossible to be alone. Their heads were next to each other’s as they looked up, laying down on a picnic blanket Draco had somehow found. He’d gotten a load of food from the kitchens, somethings the house elves even made specially - there was so much of Harry’s favourite treacle tart that his mouth had watered the moment he saw the contents of the picnic dinner. Their fingers were woven together, always wanting to be touching each other in even the smallest of ways. It didn’t matter how small, just the feel of his boyfriend’s skin made Harry’s own tingle all over. 

 

He smiled to himself, thinking of how perfect the night had been. Turning his head, he couldn’t help but admire Draco, studying the planes of his face when he wasn’t paying attention. “Thanks for doing this.” He said softly. “It was lovely.”

 

“You don’t have to thank me.” Draco replied, voice a sleepy but pleasant murmur. He turned too, meeting Harry’s eyes. “I wanted to do something extra nice.”

 

Harry knew what he meant - he wanted to apologise for the fact that he was going to start seeing Pansy. Not  _ seeing  _ her, but pretending to. Even though Harry hated the idea, he knew it was for both of their own good, it would really get everybody off the scent that something could be going on with the pair of them. Of course, it wasn’t ideal, but he didn’t want to let the discussion ruin let another night. 

 

“Let’s not talk about that.” Harry pleaded gently, “We never seem to be able to do anything without arguing in one way or another.”

 

There was a long moment's hesitation, but Draco seemingly agreed for he dropped the subject instantly, despite the uncertain silence that briefly lingered in the air. “Okay.” He said, then “What’s going on with you, then?”

 

The fact was, Dumbledore’s Army was going on. Harry had been debating in his head for the past couple of days whether or not he should tell Draco. They had agreed not to keep secrets from one another, all that was between them was trust, wasn’t it? The problem: as much as Harry tried, he still didn’t really 100% trust Draco. He wanted to, most of the time he believed he did. He trusted him when it came to things to do with  _ him _ , but… his dad was on the ministry. For all he knew, Lucius could have been great friends with Umbridge. The moment the idea of lying popped into his head, Harry felt cruel, he felt acid settle in his throat like he was about to spit poison. Surely he wasn’t about to add yet another secret to the already teetering pile? 

 

It wasn’t even just Draco, but they had all agreed to tell  _ nobody _ about the DA. He also remembered Hermione saying she would bewitch the signup sheet, so anybody who told outsiders about the group would be hexed or something. He couldn’t risk it. Besides, if any of the Slytherin’s whatsoever found out, they would just go running straight to Umbridge, dropping them all in it. They’d all be subject to the cruel little quill. 

 

So he spat the poison. “Nothing, really.” He lied. 

 

“Same.” Draco replied. 

 

They dropped off into comfortable silence. It was no longer awkward and strained between each other, they could just meet and not talk at all and still feel even closer to one another by the end of the night. It was late, they were both a little tired, and Draco had started stroking gentle patterns across the back of Harry’s hand as it was intertwined with his. It felt so soothing that Harry started to close his eyes. The panic of his lie had already worn off. He’d gotten so used to it, lying to the people he loved, that it seemed more bearable. That was never a good sign. Suddenly though, he felt a stinging in his knuckles that made him sit up. Draco had sat as well - his thumb had moved over the raised scar that read  _ I must not tell lies _ . 

 

“What’s that?” He asked with a frown. 

 

Harry wasn’t in the mood to talk about it, he tried to pull his hand back, but Draco wouldn’t let him. He still held his hand, frowning at it. “Did you do this to yourself?”

 

Harry bit his lip. It seemed that they really couldn’t have a single date and not have to discuss some kind of heavy topic. They’d managed to barely even acknowledge the fact that Hogwarts was falling apart when they were together, but now that they weren’t arguing, it decided to just pop up for a friendly visit. “It’s from my detentions with Umbridge.” He said. 

 

He watched closely as Draco’s frown deepened, lifting Harry’s hand to get a closer look. His lips moved as he mouthed the words etched into the skin there. “My father said they were going to bring in more forceful approaches.”

 

Harry hadn’t wanted to make a scene, but Draco suddenly sounded so much like he didn’t care that it made him feel numb in disbelief. And his familiar arrogance had returned as it always did when discussing his  _ father _ . The father who had been in the graveyard laughing as Cedric got killed and Harry tortured. 

 

“ _ ‘More forceful approaches’?” _ Harry echoed, not sure if he was hearing correctly. “Draco, this isn’t a lawful practice at all! The ministry is corrupt.”

 

“They’re just doing their job-”

 

“Covering up the fact that Voldemort is back?” Harry interrupted, “Yeah, very nice. I get why your dad would want to do that, but this isn’t right!”

 

He watched as his words slapped into Draco, the Slytherin boy visibly twitched. “This has nothing to do with my dad.”

 

“You’re the one who mentioned him first!” Harry retorted. He yanked his hand out of Draco’s grip, rising to his knees, about to stand. “Do you seriously not think that  _ this  _ is wrong?” He lifted up his hand so he could get another view of the scar that had just deepened and deepened over the three months of school.

 

“Of course it’s  _ wrong _ , but there’s nothing we can do about it! Umbridge is here, and that’s that. You’ve known the ministry want you to shut up, so-”

 

“Listen to yourself!” Harry exploded, unable to help himself. He rose to his feet, towering above Draco for only a second, because he got up as well. They were basically the same size, so it was a competition to see who could tower over the other the tallest. “I’m being pretty much  _ tortured  _ and you don’t even care?”

 

Draco glared - he hadn’t glared at Harry in so long. Part of Harry missed the teasing side of their relationship, when they used to taunt one another and then end up ripping each other’s clothes off, those had been some of the most passionate moments. This, though, this was different. A political argument. The worst thing was, Harry  _ knew  _ Draco didn’t agree with everything his father did, but… they were still so different. They still had such different views on everything. 

 

“Harry, you  _ know  _ I care about you!” He snapped angrily, “I care about you so much that if anybody found out, I would get a lot worse than a cut on my hand! It’s not my fault that this is happening, Harry, I don’t see why you’re having a go at me.”

 

“You make no sense.” Harry said, shaking his head, throwing his hands up into the air. “If you care, then why aren’t you angry that I’m getting my fucking hand sliced open?!”

 

“I just don’t think there’s any point in being angry about Umbridge because she’s here, and she’s not leaving. To try and go against her rules would just get you in deeper trouble.”

 

They stood, both with frozen glints in their eyes, both too stubborn to back down. 

 

“I think you’d feel a lot more differently if  _ you  _ were the one she was out to get. The Slytherin’s are definitely benefitting a  _ lot  _ from her being here.”

 

Between them, the air suddenly got a lot more colder. They always seemed to result in this - shooting daggers at each other as if they had no care in the world. Of course, they’d always feel terrible the moment they noticed said daggers had opened huge bleeding wounds, but still. They were always arguing. Neither of them ever wanted to be the first to say anything - because neither of them would admit that they were wrong. 

 

Draco seemed to be thinking the same. 

 

“It’s like I said,” he said, voice cracked ever so slightly like he was holding back tears. Death Eater, Golden Boy. Nothing good will come of us.”

 

Another long pause. Harry wondered how many more arguments they would have before they crumbled. But he didn’t want that to happen. He loved Draco too much. Even if he  _ was  _ ‘the enemy’, he wouldn’t be without him. 

 

“You’re not a Death Eater.” he whispered. 

 

Draco smiled at that. But it wasn’t his happy smile, or his arrogant smile. It was sad. It didn’t reach his eyes. He parted his lips as if he was about to speak, and quickly Harry’s head began to pound a little as if something heartbreaking was just rounding the corner. But then he pressed them tightly together and reached out for Harry’s hand. Letting him take it back, Harry watched as Draco lifted it and pressed his lips very faintly to the words carved in. The pain seemed to completely vanish when he touched it, it made Harry want to moan in pleasure. Honestly, something as simple as a kiss on the  _ hand  _ had him weak. 

 

“Nothing good.” Draco repeated, everything coming out in a low hum.

 

Harry thought that through. Draco had said this many times, and truthfully, he was right. In total, they’d gone at least half a year of their not even properly official relationship not talking to one another thanks to some kind of dispute, they were constantly hurting each other, they couldn’t even talk about  _ politics  _ without dissolving into some kind of argument. They were complete opposites - and not to mention what was probably keeping Draco up at night, the cause for the dark circles surrounding his grey eyes; if his family found out, maybe they  _ would  _ kill him. He wouldn’t put it past Lucius. Unlike Draco, there didn’t seem to be any hidden warmth between the ice stature. It was true. Maybe their relationship was completely doomed. But maybe it was worth it.

  
“I’m willing to risk it.” Harry said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, writing this story is even frustrating me, why can't they have one completely smooth chapter :P  
> I guess then, it wouldn't be the annoying Drarry we've all come to know and love...
> 
> Also, sidenote, is this sort of chapter length okay for everyone? I never know if they're too long or not, so if you can, please do let me know!


	19. poisoned kiss

Harry woke with a start, sitting up bolt right in bed, feeling a pool of sweat drenched his sheets and pyjama trousers. Around him, he heard the snoring of his roommates, realising it was still the middle of the night and he was the only one awake. Panting as if trying to catch his breath, he stared around at the darkness, trying to remember where exactly he was. Thankfully, the snores which usually annoyed the hell out of him had served as some sort of weight pulling him back to earth,  and he managed to compose himself. He rested back against the pillows, kicking his duvet and blankets off of him, boiling hot despite it being almost the middle of December. His nightmare was playing on a loop in his head. 

 

He was seeing the same door, over and over again, and then he’d hear a voice hissing his name.  _ His  _ voice, Voldemort. It was only then as he thought it through that he realised it was the exact same nightmare that had woken up every night for the past week; though he had completely forgotten it every morning. He started to wonder if it meant anything, feeling like it  _ must.  _ He had been having nightmares before, his subconscious trying to get him to acknowledge that Voldemort was back, and he’d ignored them. Frowning, he tried to work out what it could possibly mean. But he was tired, and even as he was trying to work out where that door was, his eyes were closing, and the nightmare was already slipping out of his mind. 

 

**********

 

“You’re all doing so well!” Harry called out to the room, looking around at all the other students who had shown up for their fifth Defence meeting, he felt as proud as if they were his own children. 

 

He was walking around the room, helping them all to try and perfect Patronus charms. Granted, some were a lot better than others, some not so great. An example of the latter was Cho, who looked incredibly crestfallen. Harry went to help her, showing her how to hold her wand better. 

 

“Don’t worry about it Cho,” he said kindly, “It’s a difficult charm. It takes practice.” 

 

When she was still having trouble, he lifted his hand, placing it lightly over hers, guiding it in it’s motion. “Like this, see?”

 

He showed her a few more times, and suddenly became quite aware of how she was looking at him. Not watching their hands and the motion, but she had her head turned towards his, and she was incredibly close to him. Immediately Harry moved away, pretending that he had to go and help somebody else. He glanced over to Ron and Hermione, and they were both watching him looking smug. Feeling his skin heat up, Harry realised that they had definitely been watching him, and judging by their expressions, it had looked as if he was making some kind of  _ move _ . Harry felt himself cringe, remembering when he was sneaking around Privet Drive, he crept down to the living room and spied around the door as Aunt Petunia was watching some trashy romance film. The man held gotten right behind his love interest, holding her close and then leaning over the pool table, guiding her on how to play pool. Was that what it had looked like? He gulped, glancing over his shoulder at Cho. She was talking to her friend Penelope, giggling girlishly and looking over in his direction. 

 

“Oh god.” he muttered under his breath, already feeling her hungry gaze on him. 

 

He tried to pretend like she wasn’t there, crossing the room to help Neville. When the lesson came to an end, everybody crowded around him - Cho was right at the front of the group. She was watching him with an awed smile on her face, he could feel how hot his skin was as it turned bright red. Hermione and Ron were watching too, only they seemed to be a lot happier about it than he was. 

 

“Alright guys, you’ve all done so well, we’ve managed to get through so many things in such a short time.” Harry started, trying to keep his voice from trembling. The look on Cho’s face was nothing he was used to, Draco never looked at him like  _ that _ . She looked very much like she was trying to seduce him with her eyes. Last year, before he realised his feelings for Draco he’d concealed for so long, he would have been jumping for joy, but now he just felt incredibly embarrassed. He was getting distracted, everybody waiting for him, he’d started talking so slowly. “This is the last time we’ll see each other before Christmas so just- just keep practicing and I’ll see you all after the holidays, I guess.”

 

Everybody started filing out of the room, thanking him for teaching them, exchanging wishes of merry Christmas. Harry went about the room with Ron and Hermione collecting cushions off the floor that they had used at the beginning of the lesson to practice stupefying. Then, Hermione went over to him, taking the stack of them out of his hands. He protested, but she looked at him pointedly and then nodded her head over his shoulder. Turning, Harry realised with a very sick feeling in his stomach that Cho was hovering behind. Her friends had all left, but she was waiting for something. For  _ him _ . He tried to whisper to Hermione that he was busy or something, but she knew he wasn’t. He had no choice. Swallowing nervous acid, he walked over to her, every step meant more reluctance. 

 

“Hi, Cho.” He said when he was near enough to be heard. 

 

She smiled, “Hey, Harry.” 

 

Then she looked over at Ron and Hermione, just as they were leaving the room. They were looking back at Harry, grinning stupidly. Watching them, Harry felt the sudden urge to either run after them or demand that they come back. Now he was alone with Cho, and the way she was looking at him was making him feel uneasy. 

 

“So how’ve you been?” He asked desperately, trying to distract her, but she was indestructible. 

 

When he said that, though, her eyes seemed to darken ever so slightly and they crawled over to the wall where a photo of Cedric was pinned up on a board. He silently cursed himself for saying something so stupid, her eyes seemed to be watering then. That didn’t deter her though, she  stepped even closer to him. 

 

“I’ve been better.” she whispered. She glanced upwards, and Harry did too. 

 

Of course -  _ mistletoe _ . That really wasn’t what he had wanted, but he guessed that’s what Cho had wanted. And of course, whatever the visitor asked for, the room provided. A tear was sliding down her cheek. Harry thought of how he could use that to his advantage. He thought about just hugging her, but… well. She was crying and she seemed to want to kiss him. And he didn’t know what he could say to stop her, he couldn’t tell her about Draco. Just as he stepped back, she took a step closer. 

 

“Cho…” he said gently, “I don’t- I don’t want you to do this if you’re upset. It- it wouldn’t be right, I’d be taking advantage.” 

 

She looked up at him from under her eyelashes, doe eyes bright, shaking her head. “You’re not the one doing it.” 

 

She was getting closer, and Harry was feeling more confused. He didn’t want to kiss her, and he knew kissing her would be so wrong, but she was upset and he felt like she wouldn’t stop. It was too late for him to even say he didn’t want to, and if did, she would be alright with that but she’d also be even more upset most likely. He was trying to work through the jumble of his head but it was taking too long, because the next thing he knew she had her lips pressed against his. 

 

It felt all kinds of wrong, he had never kissed anybody but Draco and he didn’t  _ want  _ to. In the shock of it, he placed a hand on her waist to steady himself - he should have picked somewhere other than her waist. She took it as a sign to deepen the kiss. Her own hands held onto him tightly, she opened her mouth a little more, her tongue dancing with his. Harry knew it was probably a lousy kiss, though he hoped that would deter her. It didn’t though, her own breaths were growing uneven as she tilted her head. It was too much, Harry thought of Draco’s eyes in his mind and broke away instantly, stepping backwards. She blinked at him, confused. 

 

“I thought…”

 

“I’m sorry, Cho.” He said, “It’s not- it’s not you. I just…” 

 

She looked bewildered and hurt, and he felt terrible, but he didn’t care enough to stay. His thoughts were speeding up, loops of Draco staring at him, shocked. He could hear his voice in his ears, ringing with betrayal. 

 

“I’m sorry.” He said again, turning and sprinting from the room.

 

He didn’t have time to feel bad, he just had to get away. He was meant to be meeting Draco in about an hour, he had to go back to the dorm and wash the taste of Cho out of his mouth. His blood turned to running guilt as he raced up to the common room. He wanted to get mouthwash, toothpaste,  _ anything _ . But Ron and Hermione were sat waiting for him, and they called him over. 

 

“Harry, what are you doing back so early?” Ron teased.

 

“What?” He asked, shocked. “I-”

 

“Sit down!” Hermione interrupted, eager, “Tell us everything!”

 

Reluctantly, Harry moved closer, sinking down onto a chair opposite them. He was in shock and the way they were looking at him was making him tremble. He felt like he was about to collapse into a ball of panicked nerves - he felt so  _ guilty,  _ he felt like such a terrible person. That didn’t change the fact that they were looking at him expectantly, though. 

 

“What?” He asked again. 

 

“We’re not idiots.” Ron said with a laugh, “Tell us! How was your first kiss?”

 

There was a twisting pain in his stomach - so many  _ lies _ . That was definitely not his first kiss, but of course, they didn’t know that. 

 

“Erm…” he said, trying to keep his voice even, “Splendid.” The lie sounded dead even to his own ears, but neither of them noticed it. 

 

“Always knew she liked you,” Ron said with a grin, “Even last year when she turned you down as her date to the prom so she could-” He trailed off, not wanting to mention Cedric. 

 

“Do you think she’ll want to go out with you, then?” Hermione asked, changing the subject with what she thought was tact, but it was just making Harry feel worse. 

 

The thought of going on a date with Cho horrified him, he suddenly felt like he might actually vomit. Wildly he flew to his feet, he was already halfway across the room before he remembered they were there. “I have to go.” He said over his shoulder. 

 

He couldn’t see them but knew they were undoubtedly looking confused, but he couldn’t stay there, he couldn’t sit talking about kissing Cho, not when it felt like one of the worst things he had ever done. It still wasn’t time to meet Draco, but he knew where he would be. The same classroom that Draco was always in after hours, he went there to get away from the other Slytherins and when he had homework to do. Harry burst in, not bothering to double check that there were no teachers inside. Luckily, there weren’t, just Draco sat at a desk with his books spread out. He looked up, frowning at first, then he smiled, but then he realised the horror on Harry’s face and the smile disappeared again. 

 

“What’s wrong, babe?” He asked, and then he looked shocked by his own words - he had never called Harry  _ babe _ . 

 

Any other time, that would have made Harry smile, he would have teased Draco a little but lovingly of course - it sounded so  _ smooth  _ coming off of his tongue. However, it wasn’t the time for that. Harry shut the door and walked across the room, still shaking, but now tears had pricked his eyes as well and he knew once they started to fall they wouldn’t stop. 

 

“Draco, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean it, and I stopped immediately, I’m so sorry-”

 

“Hey,” Draco said softly, but his brow was creased with immense uncertainty as he moved closer to Harry. He reached out to pull him in for a hug, but Harry wouldn’t let him, he couldn’t let Draco show that loving care when he had done such a terrible thing. When he practically leaped out of reach, Draco looked hurt. “What did you do?”

 

“I kissed Cho.” Harry said, the words to his own ears sounded like daggers straight to the heart. “Or she kissed me, but I  _ let  _ her, I didn’t know what else to do, and she was crying, and I couldn’t think of an excuse, I just wanted to say I was with somebody else but that would mean more questions!”

 

He couldn’t control himself, his emotions were spiralling all over the place and he was starting to sob. He lowered himself down to his knees, unable to hold himself up anymore. He expected Draco to be hurt, maybe even shout because he felt so betrayed, he expected yet another argument which he deserved. He felt so terrible, but Draco just sat down on the floor with him. He reached out to pull him closer, and when Harry moved out of the way again, he just made a noise of frustration. 

 

“Harry, stop crying and come here.”

 

Somehow, his commanding tone managed to break through Harry’s uncontrollable sobs and he almost went completely silent but for the sound of his hiccoughs. He turned his eyes to Draco’s, wondering what he would see on his face, but Draco just looked amused. He held his arms out, and Harry stared from the limbs, to his face, and back. 

 

“You’re not angry?” he asked, incredulous. 

 

“Just come here, please.” Draco said, and he never said please. So slowly, Harry moved closer to him, shuffling across the floor. He was being so uncertain and gradual that Draco rolled his eyes and pulled him onto his lap, straddling him, Draco’s hand in the small of his back through his school shirt. “I’m not angry.” 

 

“Upset?” Harry asked. 

 

“ _ No _ . I don’t care.” Draco said like it was obvious, “I just care that it made you so upset. Why would I be angry after you just showed me how much you wanted nobody but me?”

 

“Because.. Because I kissed somebody else.” Harry said, wondering if maybe Draco didn’t really understand what he had said. He thought about how upset  _ he  _ would be if it was the other way around. Yet Draco didn’t have a care in the world. 

 

“Yeah, and I’ve kissed Pansy.”

 

Harry’s heart hammered against his chest, suddenly scared of what came next.  “I thought that was only when we were broken up?”

 

“Yeah, it was.” Draco said with a shrug and for a moment Harry felt relieved, not that it lasted for very long. “But wasn’t I saying the other day how it’d be good if we had covers?” 

 

Confused, Harry studied Draco’s face, trying to see if it was just him covering up how he actually felt about it, but he had never looked so sincere. He was even smiling still, the corners of his lips twitched upwards as he watched Harry with loving eyes. 

 

“I don’t like that idea.” Harry whispered, unable to stand the thought. 

 

“I’m not the biggest fan either.” Draco replied, “But Harry, we’re in the closet. My parents might know something. We  _ need  _ some sort of backups for if we get desperate - so if you want to kiss Cho, go ahead.”

 

Harry hated what he was hearing. He couldn’t imagine how miserable he’d be if he knew Draco wanted to kiss other people, yet alone actually  _ do it _ . Thoughts reeling, he tried to work out what this actually meant about their relationship. Did he simply care more? Was he just not quite enough for Draco? 

 

“I really don’t want to kiss Cho.” he whispered miserably, not quite meeting Draco’s eyes. 

 

Trying to get him to, Draco placed his hand under Harry’s chin, slightly tilting his head up. Harry had no choice but to look at him. Despite everything Draco was saying, he felt guiltier than ever - and incredibly crestfallen. 

 

“I don’t want you to either.” Draco whispered. 

 

But maybe he was just saying that. Harry was exhausted, so many emotions in a short time had ran him ragged. He gave Draco a kiss. It was long, and it was desperate, but it was sad too. It didn’t have their usual passionate wildness, it was just a kiss. No fireworks, no heat. 

 

“I have to go.” Harry mumbled, “I just need time to think.” 

 

“But-”

 

“I’m sorry. See you tomorrow?” Harry said, already getting to his feet. 

 

“Harry, where are-”

 

“I need to be alone.” Harry told him. He was worried if he stayed any longer they’d have another disagreement, and he was done, he argued with Draco so much that it was just tiring. 

 

He left the room without glancing back. The air felt stiff and awkward - he couldn’t shake the feeling that Draco wanted to be with somebody else. Even if it was just a cover, he didn’t  _ want  _ a cover. He wished they could just be honest, the secrets were too much for him to handle. They were driving him crazy. 

 

*************

 

The idea of going back to the common room and facing more questions about what had happened with Cho was enough to make Harry feel the urge to stick pins through his eyes. He couldn’t think of where else to go other than the library, not that he had any work to do. It was just somewhere quiet and somewhere away from the world. When he got there, he crept past Madam Pince’s desk in hope that if she didn’t know he was there, she wouldn’t go looking for him when she was closing up and he could stay late into the night. He didn’t care that he had to be up early in the morning for a dreaded final lesson of the year with Umbridge, he just didn’t want to talk to Ron. Also, he knew that he wouldn’t be able to sleep anyway, and he would just lie awake tossing and turning as thoughts ran round his mind. He found a desk hidden away right at the back of the magnificent library, sitting down with a book on Defence Against The Dark Arts that they were supposed to be reading for homework. He hadn’t really planned on doing it, it’s not like it would have made Umbridge hate him any less, he’d still be getting detentions, but he was grateful for the distraction. 

 

He read for the good part of an hour, which was surprising. He usually found it hard to lose himself in the words, especially when it was just theory stuff, but it seemed to be easier when he was so determined to escape his thoughts. It was practically empty, it being two days before the end of term presumably, teachers deciding to loosen to workload. Other than, of course, Umbridge and Binns. The day Professor Binns stopped teaching seemed to be nonexistent considering he hadn’t let his own death get in the way of things. Of course, the reading could only keep Harry occupied for so long, he was starting to get bored. 

 

Instead, his mind wandered elsewhere. He was thinking about Professor Binns - he had been told all those years ago when he first came to Hogwarts and had thought he could see his parents that the only wizards who stayed in the mortal world as ghosts were those who were scared of death, or who had a very strong connection to the place they occupied. What was Binns’ emotional connection? Purely a strong love for teaching? Surely if that were it, he’d teach with a lot more excitement? These questions kept ringing around his head, wondering if  _ he  _ would come back as a ghost if he died. He had tried avoiding the thought of death, but he was thinking of Voldemort as well. He definitely wanted Harry dead, and the longer the ministry kept telling the world that Harry was lying about his return, the more danger he was put in. 

 

Sighing, Harry shook his head in an attempt to flick away the thoughts he didn’t care for. He had other things to worry about… though he also know he probably shouldn’t keep saying that. Everything going on with the ministry should have been so much more important in his mind, the fact that the death eaters would soon be at large… he knew these were all priorities, but thinking about it simply terrified him. Still, he wondered if maybe he was simply an idiot for worrying about Draco rather than that stuff. Draco didn’t care about him like that, or so it didn’t seem. He’d happily go round snogging other girls. 

 

“Hello, Harry.” 

 

Practically falling out of his chair, Harry had to grab onto the table to steady himself, the voice seemed a lot louder than it really was. He turned to see Luna standing at his side, unabashed by how she had startled him, simply smiling. 

 

“Hi, Luna,” Harry said, surprised at how breathless he felt; he hadn’t really noticed how jumpy he’d gotten lately. “What are you doing here?”

 

“Oh, I like to come here to do my work. I like to sing, and somehow, Madam Pince doesn’t mind quite as much as everyone in the common room does.” She replied in her floaty voice. 

 

“I see.” Harry replied, though he found he wasn’t really listening. He wasn’t in the mood for talking, so he was sort of horrified when he instinctively asked Luna to sit down. Talking to people was one thing, talking to Luna was on a whole nother level. 

 

She sat though, placing her books down on the table in front of her. “I came over to say thank you, actually.”

 

“For what?” Harry asked, confused. 

 

“For teaching us. Personally I think you’re being very kind.” 

 

“Oh,” he replied, still feeling quite absent, his mind was elsewhere, “It’s no problem.” 

 

She seemed to realise he wasn’t much up for conversing as she went quiet, but she didn’t actually leave. She stayed sat beside him, and the silence was starting to grow so awkward that it hurt. Although to be honest, it probably didn’t seem at all awkward to Luna, she didn’t get embarrassed. That was definitely one thing Harry admired about her.

 

“So what are you doing over Christmas?” Harry asked, a lame attempt at conversation. 

 

“Oh, you know, me and daddy are going away to look for the blibbering humdinger. Many people don’t believe they exist, but daddy thinks there’s been a sighting in France.”

 

“Er- right.” Harry replied, always a bit uncomfortable by her wise tone when she spoke about things he was almost 100% sure were completely imaginary. 

 

“Yes, if we see one, I’ll tell you all about it.” Luna said cheerfully, “What about you? Are you going to miss your boyfriend?”

 

“Thanks, Luna, I appreciate it.” Harry replied with a smile, “Yeah, I’m just going to- wait, what?” 

 

He turned to look at her, feeling a wave of utter horror wash over him for the millionth time in such a short time. Shrugging, Luna looked completely at ease, whether or not she realised that she had just terrified the life out of him was unclear. 

 

Very lamely, Harry tried to force a laugh, but it came out as more of a choking gasp. “What boyfriend?” 

 

“Draco, of course.” Luna said, smiling at him as if he had said something funny, “Who else would I be talking about?”

 

Feeling as if his head had gone completely numb, Harry was trying really hard not to just break down and cry all over again, this was not good. “Who else knows? How do you know?” He demanded, hearing how his own voice broke and cringing like you do when a fork scrapes a plate, except fear scratched his entire soul. 

 

“Well,  _ I _ don’t know who else knows. I don’t usually discuss other people with anybody but the actual person.” Luna told him simply. 

 

That was something at least, but there was still the how? Had she seen them? All these slip ups… Harry felt so stupid. 

 

“And I know because when we were on the train, and Draco was outside, the air went pink. And I could see the conflict in your eyes, trying to reason with your heart and your head.”

 

Knitting his brow, Harry tried to work out what exactly she meant about the air turning pink, but then he remembered her saying he had nargles in his head and she believed she had seen many things that were non-existent. Well… he knew she wasn’t making thestrals up. He felt guilty for thinking that, then. 

 

“And I see the way he looks at you. I usually sit facing him at dinner and he’s always looking over at you. I know what love looks like, you know.” 

 

Harry shivered, but not fear that time, he didn’t really know what it was. Hearing that somebody could actually  _ see  _ Draco loving him… they hadn’t even told one another that they loved each other. He’d thought it to himself, but he was scared to say it out loud. Not because it was Draco, but because their relationship was simply so uncertain. Somehow though, Luna saying that made him feel warm inside despite the goosebumps erupting all across his skin. Then he fell back to earth. He wondered what Draco would say if he knew they had been discovered… he’d be so scared. Harry understood, too, if his parents found out, Draco would be completely done for. 

 

Frantically, Harry put a hand on Luna’s shoulder, “Luna, promise me you won’t tell anybody,  _ please _ promise me.”

 

“Why would I do that?” Luna asked, wide eyed. “I already told you-”

 

“I know, I don’t think you would either,” Harry said honestly, his words completely soaked in desperation, “But please promise me. If anybody else knew about this-”

 

“I promise.” Luna said, as naturally as if she was discussing what she’d had for dinner. 

 

That was sincere enough for Harry, though, and he almost wanted to cry with relief. Luna hadn’t seen anything really, other than things that only she saw, so maybe they were safe. Still, his heart was sprinting inside his chest. He always knew the secret was risky, but if Luna knew… he couldn’t bring himself to think what would happen if everybody found out. He couldn’t bear to think how Ron and Hermione would feel, knowing he’d been keeping something so big from them for practically a year. 

 

“I won’t say I’m particularly fond of the Slytherin’s, they can be very unkind.” Luna said then, “But I think Draco cares a lot about you.” 

 

She probably had no idea how much Harry needed to hear that, but the words were enough to make Harry want to dance with joy. Maybe Draco’s idea of covers really was just for the sake of the secret, not that he didn’t want  _ just  _ Harry. He smiled, at Luna, and to himself as well. 

  
“Thanks, Luna.” He said. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everybody for reading! :D
> 
>  
> 
> (Writing Harry with somebody else killed me, you can probably tell by how fast the kiss was over hahaha)


	20. nightmares

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorryyyy for such a long wait! Hope this doesn't disappoint :)

Again, Harry was jolted awake in a cold sweat - only this was something he’d definitely remember. Immediately, he leaped out of bed, his breaths ragged and uncontrolled. He didn’t even realise that Ron was the one who had woken him up - now the ginger boy stood beside his bed, staring at Harry with both shock and confusion. Straightening up, Harry turned to face him, running his hands through his hair frantically. 

“Ron,” he sad wildly, but then he noticed Ron wasn’t the only one staring at him. He’d woken up everybody in the dorm, Neville, Seamus and Dean all stood looking concerned. Even Seamus, who had seemed to believe Harry was lying and had barely spoken a word to him since September, looked concerned. Lifting a hand to his throat, Harry realised that it felt as if he’d been screaming.

His head had never ached quite so bad - other than every time he had woken up from these nightmares over the past few weeks, but those dreams had been different. This one wasn’t just a door. Squinting his eyes shut, Harry tried to block out everything, the pain and the others, trying to muddle his way through the dream. He had only been out of bed for a second but it felt like eternities of him standing there in front of the others, looking completely mental.

“He’s really ill.” Somebody said, sounding nervous, their voice shook, “Should we call somebody?”

The pain was so excruciating and Harry had been writhing around in bed, he felt a sick feeling in his stomach - though it wasn’t just a feeling. He doubled over and vomited all over his bed, and he heard the others all make sounds of disgust.

“I’m calling somebody.” The same voice said, and Harry heard footsteps running across the floor, being very overly cautious not to step anywhere close to his bed.

Wiping his mouth, Harry shook his head, looking over his shoulder at Ron. Ron looked terrified and pale, the smell getting to him, but he didn’t care. Of course, when Harry was in such a state, Ron would be there for him. He rubbed uncertain circles against Harry’s back, “It’s alright, mate.” He said softly. “Neville’s gone to-”

"Ron,” Harry said again, the picture in his head was uncovering itself as he spoke, “It’s your dad. He’s been hurt, he’s been attacked-”

“Harry, you just had a dream.” Ron said, frowning uncertainly, “It’s alright, we’ll get you to Madame Pomfrey or something-”

“ _ No.”  _ Harry said desperately, “It wasn’t a dream. Well, it was, but not a normal dream.”

Feeling a little better having thrown up, he turned to face Ron again, properly, so that he could see just how serious he was being. Across the room, Dean and Seamus’ muttering hummed, but Harry didn’t care that he looked insane, he just had to make Ron understand.

“Like the dreams I had last year, remember? About- about the house, and…” he trailed off, trying extra hard not to go off on a tangent, he felt so confused and lost, he wasn’t even sure if he was actually awake. “He’s seriously hurt, Ron. He was bitten or something, by- by a snake.”

Although Harry hadn’t just _seen_ it happening. As the realisation came into his head his stomach jolted again, fluttering and  _ not  _ in a nice way. He had been the snake himself. He had been the one to attack Arthur. He couldn’t hold it in, he turned and vomited all over again. Dean and Seamus swore and raced out of the room, and Harry didn’t blame them. He wanted to apologise for waking then, but he couldn’t speak anymore words. Just as the door shut behind his fellow Gryffindor’s, it opened again, and Professor McGonagall entered, Neville close on her heels.

“What is it, Potter?” she asked as she neared the bed, crouching down to where Harry now sat beside it. “Where does it hurt?”

Harry looked at her, right in the eyes, trying so hard to make her see the dire situation with all sincerity, “My scar,” he said, “It hurts my scar. But that’s not-”

“What do you mean it hurts your scar?” She asked, voice clipped and dark eyebrows knitted. “What’s exactly the matter?”

Shaking all over, Harry had to close his eyes again, trying to get the full memory of the dream to stay still, “It’s Ron’s dad.” He said, speaking a lot more slowly, hoping it’d make him easier to understand, “Ron’s dad has been attacked by a snake, I saw it happen. It’s  _ true _ , I-”

“What do you mean you saw it happen?” said Professor McGonagall, “How did you see it?”

“I don’t know…” Harry murmured, shaking his head, anguish washing over him, “I was asleep, and then I was there, really  _ there _ , I could see and hear it, and it was awful, we need to help-”

“So you were dreaming?” She interrupted. 

“No!” Harry said angrily, getting more and more frustrated. Why would nobody believe him? He wouldn’t make it up! “I was having a dream, and then suddenly, I was there seeing Mr Weasley getting attacked. I know it doesn’t make sense, but I know it was real, Mr Weasley was there sleeping and then he was attacked by a gigantic snake! There was blood everywhere, and he collapsed and-” he hesitated, glancing at Ron, who looked incredibly uncomfortable.

“Go on.” McGonagall prompted.

“He looked- he looked like he was about to die.” Harry whispered, though he knew that wouldn’t keep Ron and Neville from hearing him.

Professor McGonagall moved away from slightly, and she looked as if she was trying to take in an entire view, her gaze one of horror and concern.

“I know how it looks,” Harry said indignantly, “And I know what they’re saying about me in the papers. But Professor, I’m not mad!” When she still said nothing, his voice started rising to a shout. “I’m not mad, I’m not lying! I tell you, I saw it happen, and if we don’t do something, Ron’s dad is going to  _ die _ !”

“I know.” Professor McGonagall said curtly, getting to her feet. “Change your shirt, you’re covered in vomit, and then we’re going to see the headmaster.”

 

Harry wanted to argue, he didn’t have time for changing his shirt, but he knew arguing with McGonagall was a dead end. As he quickly found something else to wear, he realised just how absent Dumbledore had seemed. He’d not said a single word to Harry since coming back to school, and when they saw each other around the castle, they may as well had not seen each other as well. Or rather, Harry may as well had been blind. It was Dumbledore doing the not seeing. He hadn’t really thought about it, having a million other things on his mind, but suddenly the thought of seeing Dumbledore settled uncomfortably in Harry’s chest. Still, he had to do it, he had to save Ron’s dad. He couldn’t let another person die.

 

********************

 

When they got to the headmaster’s office, Dumbledore didn’t even glance at Harry, he just started pacing up and down, asking questions. Harry was tired and frustrated, he’d reached a point of recounting the dream at least six times and nobody was doing anything. Of course, he didn’t want to lose his temper, not in front of Dumbledore, but that was very difficult when nobody seemed to be taking him seriously. 

“Yes, a snake!” Harry said desperately for what felt like the millionth time, “He was bitten by a snake! A huge and probably venomous snake!”

Whether or not Dumbledore noticed his stress, Harry didn’t know, for he hadn’t looked in the direction of Ron  _ or  _ Harry once. “And when you were watching the attack, were you looking from above? Were you-”

“I don’t know.” Harry interrupted. He thought about it, but… he had been the one  _ doing  _ the attack. How could he say that without sounding evil? They’d probably lock him up in Azkaban or something. He couldn’t have anybody knowing that he could be capable of something so cruel. To the father of his  _ best friend _ .

Getting to his feet, Harry clenched his fists, “We don’t have time for this!” He said, unable to keep his voice from rising, “Mr Weasley is dying and we need to help him  _ right now! _ I’ve told you what happened a million times so just-”

McGonagall and Ron were watching him, concerned and in Ron’s case, scared, but Dumbledore looked as if he couldn’t hear a single thing, he was just muttering to himself. Unable to keep his rage inside any longer, Harry exploded. The rage he had been feeling in that dream, when he had attacked Mr Weasley… it sparked inside of him.

“LOOK AT ME!” he bellowed.

It certainly got the Headmaster’s attention. He stopped pacing, turning to face Harry. Their eyes connected, and for a second, the icy blue eyes that met Harry’s seemed to glint with a flame. A flame that seemed to meet the beast roaring in Harry’s stomach and for a second, he was about to pounce. He felt overcome by an out of control beast, wanting to leap and bite and claw. It last for almost no time at all, he shook his head and felt normal again. Scared and annoyed and tired, but no rage. Shocked, he stared at Dumbledore with wide eyes to see if by any chance, the older Wizard had seen anything. The answer to that was unclear, he showed no unusual emotion to what he had held on his face all night - simply lost in thought. He said nothing about the outburst, but Ron got to his feet, and put a hand on his best friend’s shoulder.

“Come on, Harry,” he mumbled, “Sit down.”

“Minerva, would you kindly go and collect the Weasley children and bring them here?” Dumbledore spoke, he seemed so unbothered by Harry’s roar that Harry started to wonder if that had been a dream, as well. Judging by the way Ron was watching him though, it hadn’t been a dream.  It had been very, very real. Such an overwhelming anger  _ really  _ existed in Harry. The thought made his arms grow goosebumps.

“Phineas, go to your other portrait and ask your Grandson if Arthur is there, or if he has reported from duty.”

Blindly, Harry blinked around the room, unaware that anyone else had been in the room. Then he looked to Dumbledore and realised he was staring up a painting, a painting of which the figure had just completely disappeared. The headmaster then went about his study, giving different orders to different paintings, many of them were annoyed at being woken up. Quicker than expected, McGonagall returned with Fred, George and Ginny all at her heels, looking sleepy in their pyjamas but still alert, worried.

“What’s going on?” Fred asked, only just audible over the loud discussions between Dumbledore and the other headmaster’s that adorned the walls.

“Harry?” Ginny asked, looking at him with concern, “What’s happened?”

“It’s dad.” Ron answered, his voice shook as he spoke. “He’s been hurt.”

“How do you know?” Fred said, just as George asked, “Hurt how? When? Where?”

For a moment, Ron dithered, unsure on what exactly to say. Harry knew that everybody would think it sounded crazy - how could he know something just from a dream? And… he hated to think of what they would say if they found out he hadn’t just been watching. That he himself had been the snake, he himself had been the one to attack Mr Weasley. Deciding to save Ron the trouble though, Harry rose to his feet.

“I saw it.” he said.

He was about to begin his explanation, all of the Weasley’s watching him with mirrors of obvious lack of understanding, but Dumbledore stopped him.

“All of this can be discussed when you get to headquarters.”

“Why are we going to headquarters?” Fred asked, “What about dad?”

“Your father has been found, and he’s being taken to the hospital. You can’t visit him there yet, but I assume you’d like to be with your family.” Dumbledore said.

_ Family _ . On hearing that word, Harry thought that he was simply going to be sent back to the dorm, and he slowly retreated back to his seat. He couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief - Mr Weasley had been found. Even if he was horribly injured, he was alive, and Healers should be able to help him. He could still tell the Weasley’s were curious as to what his part in all of it was, but in that moment they disregarded that pressing thought, all too worried about their father. They all gathered in front of the fireplace, Dumbledore was having a whispered conversation with McGonagall whilst they assembled, and his eyes fell on Harry. They were talking about him, Harry knew. 

“Harry.” Dumbledore said, “Did you hear? You’re to travel by Floo to Grimmauld Place where Sirius will be waiting for you.”

Blinking, Harry stared around the room, uncertain. He expected Ron and his family to say that they didn’t want him there, that he didn’t belong with their family. He was evil, he was crazy. Instead, though, they all beckoned him over.

“Come on, mate.” Ron said, “We’ve got to go.”

Reluctantly, he got up and crossed the room, looking back at Dumbledore uncertainly. He assumed he wouldn’t be coming back until after Christmas…

Selfishly, he thought of Draco. Of course he wanted to make sure Mr Weasley was alright, but this would mean he didn’t say goodbye to Draco. And Draco wouldn’t even know where he had gone… and he hadn’t given him his Christmas gift either. He felt a strange sadness in his chest, thinking of Draco’s face and how sad it would look when Harry didn’t show up to meet him the following night. Still, he shoved that down. He had to be there for the Weasley’s, after all, they were always there for him. And he’d see Sirius, too. Gulping all of the miserable thoughts away (or at least he desperately  _ wished  _ they would go away), Harry dipped his hand into the bowl of Floo powder being offered to him. He stepped into the fireplace, declared that he wished to go to Grimmauld Place, and watched as Dumbledore’s study whirled away before his eyes. 

 

*********

 

“Harry!” His Godfather immediately greeted him, rushing over to where he had stood beside Ginny, he looked more lost than ever before; but still as ever, pleased to see Harry. It was probably just the way he reminded Sirius of James, Harry told himself. He couldn’t believe that any of them would actually like  _ him _ \- not anymore, anyway. Surely their suspicions were working all at once, all of them judging Harry, thinking him evil. He felt a dawning realisation… this wasn’t the first time he had felt like a snake. He spoke  _ parseltongue _ . 

“Sirius.” Harry said, and suddenly, despite his incredibly sorry state, he couldn’t help but grin. The fear of them not liking him anymore melted away when he was pulled into a bone-crushing hug - bone-crushing, but loving and warm as well.

For a moment, it looked as if Sirius was going to say more, but then Ron appeared in the fireplace, closely followed by the twins. Everyone got very quiet, nobody quite sure what to say. Harry wondered if he would be made to explain everything again. It would be fair enough that they all wanted to know, of course, but he couldn’t stand recounting the story. He’d be lying. Maybe he should tell them all that he had been the snake but… Dumbledore had gone along with his version of events, too. Maybe it was the way it was meant to be. He wondered then, though, if Ron remembered what he said been saying to begin with. Perhaps it had all just been a blur to him, though. Harry’s thoughts stirred when Sirius clapped his hands they way people do when trying to get everything in order, trying to psych themselves up for it when they feel really the opposite of psyched.

“It’s nearly morning, so why don’t I stick the kettle on?” Sirius said, and then his eyes fell on Harry. “Why don’t you come and help me make cups of tea?”

Feeling glad for an excuse to get away from the others, Harry nodded gratefully and followed his godfather through to the kitchen. Sure enough, through the window, the sky was beginning to lighten, no longer the midnight blue but the painted beauty of dawn. Sirius set about gathering mugs and tea bags while Harry filled the kettle and put it on to boil. They were quiet at first, but sure enough, the questions came.

Sirius turned and shut the door slowly so that it didn’t make any noise before fixing Harry with a look of concern. “Phineas told me you saw Arthur getting attacked, but I didn’t get much else. What exactly happened, Harry?”

It was Sirius. Harry could trust him - of course he could. He didn’t doubt that for a second. Yet the question still made him feel uneasy. Frowning, he asked, “Who’s Phineas?”

“An unfortunate relative of mine who I  _ still  _ can’t get rid of, even though he died many years ago.” Sirius said directly, not letting the question go. “Harry, you can tell me. The truth.”

“How do you know I haven’t been telling the truth?” Harry mumbled, fixing his stare on the floor so that his eyes couldn’t betray him.

“Because you’re just like your father, and I learnt how to tell when he was lying straight away.” Sirius said, but he didn’t sound accusing. He was pouring the water into cups now, watching Harry closely.

Reluctantly, Harry nodded his head, trying to think of how he could word it. He thought he was evil himself, yes, and maybe that was true, but he didn’t want anyone else thinking it.

“I was dreaming.” He started at last, “And then suddenly, the dream changed. It was more like a nightmare, and…” he broke off.

“And?”

“And then I was somewhere else entirely. I didn’t know where it was, I still don’t, but… Mr Weasley was there. And- and he was hurt. Snake bites, and he was getting more and more by the second. But it was like…” he hesitated again, no way he worded it would sound good. “ _ I  _ was the snake. I was doing the biting. And it felt so real. And it couldn’t have been me, because I’m not a  _ snake  _ and I didn’t leave my bed once. But if it wasn’t, then… how did I know that he was hurt?”

There was a long pause. At first, Harry wondered if Sirius would shout at him, shun him even, kick him right out of the house and send him straight to the ministry to turn himself in. He felt fear start to kick in and his heart was pounding again, but the next thing he knew Sirius had him in another hug. It was more gentle, more timid, but not as if he was  _ scared _ . Just as if Harry was something  _ fragile _ . An overwhelming urge to cry washed over Harry, but he managed to contain himself. He clung onto Sirius as if he were the only thing holding him up, and it was only then that he remembered just how much he loved his godfather. He felt awful for not enjoying his time with him more when he was staying at the headquarters in the Summer.

“Sirius.” He said, shaking, “Do you think… do you think it was me?”

When they pulled apart, Sirius kept his hands on Harry’s shoulders, looking him right in the eye with total sincerity. “No, I don’t. I think… somehow, Arthur was saved. And it was because of you.”

“So-” Harry said, his voice trembling so much he was stuttering, “So you don’t think I’m  _ evil _ ?”

Sirius looked almost  _ pained _ , his dark eyes filled with more sadness than usual. “Harry, you could never be evil. Besides,” he lifted one hand to lightly clap Harry’s cheek, “We’ve all got good and bad in us. It’s what we decide to act on that makes us who we are.”

Harry felt a little bewildered, not sure what to take from that, but somehow, it was comforting too. Then Sirius pressed his hand against Harry’s chest, right where his heart was beating.

“You act on nothing but  _ good _ .” He said.

Harry tried to smile, but he didn’t entirely agree. If he acted on nothing but good, then why had he imagined himself as the snake feasting on Arthur? And… why had he wanted to leap on Dumbledore earlier on? Even if he didn’t act on, he’d so wanted to just  _ hurt  _ him. Something inherently toxic lived inside of him, and he couldn’t deny it. 

“I want to lie down.” He said, voice cracking. “Um… do you mind if I-”

“No, not at all.” Sirius said, “You go and get your rest.”

 

*****************

Harry definitely did not rest. He tossed and he turned in his bed, his thoughts running wild. He kept thinking about Draco. He wished so badly that he could be with him, he wanted to tell him everything that had happened. He wondered if he was worried about him, wondering where he was. Why he hadn’t showed up to breakfast. And if anybody would understand thinking that they’re a bad person, it would be Draco. He was always talking about how he felt he was terrible, because of who he was, the family he came from. He would  _ understand _ . But no. Harry had had to leave without even getting to say so much as a goodbye. The fact made his heart burn with furious longing, and there was nothing he could do about it.

“Stop being so selfish.” Harry murmured to himself into his pillow. “Mr Weasley could be  _ dying  _ and you’re worried about your secret  _ boyfriend _ .”

Just then, there was a knock on the door. Harry didn’t know how long it had been since he had gone up for a lie down but it must have been hours, it felt as if soon the sun would be beginning to set again. He didn’t reply, but then the door opened anyway. He kept his eyes squeezed shut, burying further under the covers.

“Harry, I know you’re awake.”

Frowning, Harry turned around, knowing it was no use trying to hide anything from Hermione.

“When did you get here?” He asked, staring up at her in shock. She hadn’t taken off her winter coat and woolen hat, and her cheeks were very pink.

“Well, it’s the last day of term. Umbridge is furious that you left last night by the way, even though it was only a half day of lessons.” she spoke nonchalantly, “You best get up, we’re going to the hospital. We’re allowed to see Ron’s dad.”

Harry didn’t want to go. He could already imagine the guilt he would feel, seeing Mr Weasley bandaged up in a hospital bed and knowing that he played some sort of part in it all - that he was to blame. Still, he knew that he would be expected to, so he got out from under the cover, still feeling groggy from sleep. Hermione seemed to sense his exhaustion.

“The others say you’ve slept all day.” She said, “It’s understandable, after the sleep you had last night. Sirius is making tea, that ought to wake you up.”

She left the room without saying anything more, so Harry had no chance but to follow her downstairs. He was remembering the way that everybody had looked at him last night when they had heard about his dream - he felt as if they definitely all blamed him. They just thought he was some nutjob who was always dragging other people into his own messes. Reluctantly, he went through to the kitchen, everybody was sat around the table - including Mad-Eye and Tonks who had come to escort them to the hospital.

“Molly’s meeting us there,” Tonks was saying, but she looked up when Harry and Hermione entered with a grin, “Wotcher Harry.”

“Alright, Potter?” Mad-Eye asked at the same time, inclining his head.

“Hi.” Harry said, but the word was barely audible. He slowly turned his eyes onto Ron, Ginny, Fred and George, wondering what they all thought of him now that they had gotten more news on Arthur. Did they want to kick him out? Did they detest him?

Instead, though, they all offered him shaky smiles, and Ginny pointed to a teapot in the middle of the table.

“Want some?”

With a huge breath of relief, Harry nodded his head and sank down into one of the chairs after getting himself a cup from one of the cabinets. It was a rushed sit down, because moments later Mad-Eye was ushering them out of the door, insisting that they spend as little time outside as possible, practically making them run to the taxis waiting outside. Just as he was about to leave, somebody pulled at his shoulder, and Harry turned to see Sirius. He remembered his earlier conversation with his godfather, and the words of comfort that the older wizard had offered him came rushing back.

“Alright?” Sirius asked, and his eyes gave away that he didn’t just want a simple answer, a lie.

But Harry was lying when he nodded his head and grinned. He assumed Sirius knew that, but he didn’t have time to ask again, because Mad-Eye was getting impatient. With a promise to talk to Sirius later, Harry turned and all but sprinted out to one of the cars.

Time was going impossibly slowly as he sat squashed into one of the windows, Ron and Hermione beside him, Mad-Eye in the front seat ignoring the very strange looks that he was getting from the muggle taxi driver. Nobody spoke, the only sound being the music quietly playing on the radio. When they reached St. Mungos, Harry was bracing himself for seeing Mrs Weasley.

She was always so kind to him, always feeding him and looking after him over Summer holidays. Would it be different now? Unlike her children, she would never call herself a  _ friend  _ of Harry’s, she had no obligation whatsoever to let the kindness remain. He had given back nothing but… well. Being the reason that her husband was injured in hospital. Harry stayed close to the others as they passed through the doors into the entryway, and was surprised to find it overwhelmingly busy. Mad-Eye got directions to Arthur’s room and they had to travel up many staircases and down a hallway to find him.

Harry was glad the walk took so long, it gave him longer to prepare himself for seeing Mr Weasley - but not long enough. When they finally reached his room (it was shared with a few other patients) Harry wanted to turn and run away, but he knew he couldn’t do that. Sitting beside him, of course, was Mrs Weasley, squeezing her husband’s hand, she had it pressed to her lips like she was kissing it. The moment she heard the door open, though, she placed it gently down, staring wildly in the direction of the door. Her eyes fell on Harry, and she rose to her feet, and was racing forward. Harry wondered if she was going to shout at him, he tried to hold back, but she was getting closer, fierce determination on her face.

She shoved through everybody else - “Nice to see you, too, Mum!” Fred or George joked but it was with a very limp tone of humour. When she got to Harry, her arms came up. And she wrapped him in the tightest hug he had ever received, her hand stroking his mess of black hair.

“Thank you so much, Harry.” She was saying, she sounded so exhausted and distressed.

Taken aback, Harry looked into her eyes when they broke apart, not really sure what to say. He shook his head, “You don’t have to thank me.” He mumbled, “You really don’t.”

“If it weren’t for you, my Arthur might have never been found until…” she broke off, not wanting to even speak such an awful thought aloud. “But you saved him. Yet again, you  _ saved  _ my family.” she was wiping her eyes like she was crying, and Harry saw that there were definitely tears stinging her eyes.

Harry wanted to correct her. He wanted to tell her the truth, what had  _ really  _ been happening in the dream. But… he glanced over to Mr Weasley, sat upright in bed, smiling like nothing was wrong. You wouldn’t have been able to tell anything  _ was  _ wrong were it not for the bandages wrapped over his wounds. That conversation could wait.

“It was nothing.” He said, forcing a beam. Maybe he would be okay. Maybe.

 

**************

 

Sleeping all through the day had meant that Harry couldn’t sleep a wink that night. It was after midnight so it was officially Christmas eve. Staring at the ceiling and trying to blank out the sounds of Ron’s snores, Harry was pondering over everything that happened in the past year. Not just the Triwizard tournament which already felt so long ago, the way the wizarding world didn’t even believe him about Voldemort returning but… exactly a year since he had first kissed Draco Malfoy. In one way, they had come so far. But in many ways, they may as well have only been open about liking each other for a couple of weeks. They were so secretive about everything, the way nobody even knew that they were together. If you could even call it together. They hadn’t even said that they loved each other. 

Even so, Harry wished he had got to say goodbye. The way things were with them, always being so on and off, it was a pity not to make the most of the time that they were actually speaking. Even  _ if  _ Draco wanted covers, wanted to be seen with other people. The idea alone made Harry’s chest ache with a certain kind of pain that he really didn’t care for. Still, it did make sense, Harry knew this in the back of his mind. He just… he was always missing Draco. Even when they were together, he missed him, knowing that most of the time he wasn’t getting his true self. He was always too scared of being caught, so wary. It would be even worse if the other boy was always off to go on some staged date with  _ Pansy _ .

As these thoughts whirred through his fogged mind, there was an impatient tapping sound on the glass of the window. Harry went stiff, rigid, wondering if maybe somebody had found the Order of the Phoenix, or if Voldemort had come to finish what he’d started in the graveyard. At first, he tried to bury his head under the bedding, thinking it would go away, but the tapping just continued; and it was only getting louder. So that it wouldn’t wake Ron, Harry clambered out of his bed, past the bed of his noisily sleeping friend towards the window. He was holding his breath, and had his wand held in a tight fist - so when he saw that it was an  _ owl _ , he felt incredibly stupid. Rolling his eyes, he pulled open the window and the owl hopped more safely onto the window ledge, and it placed a little black velvet bag down along with an envelope. It flew away without letting Harry stroke it’s head, off into the night. Although the nerves had lessened, Harry still felt uneasy as he watched it go.

He chose to open the envelope first, wondering what it could be, there was no name or address inked onto it, and was surprised to find that it was a Christmas card. Inside it was the unnoticable scrawl of Draco Malfoy. Seeing it alone made Harry feel warm inside, as much as that thought made him cringe.

 

_ Dear Harry,  _

_ I don’t know what happened, but I hope that you still have a merry Christmas. I’m sorry I didn’t get to give this to you in person.  _

_ Love, Draco _

 

Harry stared at the card for maybe a little too long, letting the words wash over him again and again and again. Most importantly, his eyes remained lingering on the elegant  _ love _ . It was the closest Draco had ever gotten to saying anything of the sort to Harry.

Finally, he put it aside and picked up the velvet pouch. Drawing the strings, he tipped out the contents into the palm of his hands. The moment he saw it, his breath was pulled from him in one swift yank. It was definitely the most beautiful thing he had ever owned. A silver bangle, real silver, and it had engraved into it the finest, most delicate swirling patterns that looped all the way around. Immediately, Harry pulled it onto his wrist, and was glad to find that it could be easily concealed under long sleeves. He didn’t  _ want  _ to conceal it, not at all, but that was the nature of his and Draco’s relationship. Through the moonlit window, the bangle glistened magnificently on his arm, and Harry vowed to himself to never, ever take it off. With a smile on his face, the first  _ real  _ smile all day, he went back to his bed and settled back down. Somehow, he actually managed to close his eyes and fall into a peaceful, dreamless sleep. 


	21. two become one

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Be warned: this chapter has a little bit of smut, although not really massively graphic as I suck at writing smut :P
> 
> Hope you like this chapter!

Christmas came and went with an unexpected festive cheer filling the so often miserable Grimmauld Place, however that didn’t stop the usual gloom of returning to school. Harry hated the thought of going back to the castle where Umbridge roamed the halls, the thought alone made his stomach turn. Not to mention he was worried about what would happen if somebody else got hurt - what if he was too far to warn anybody? Still, at least he would get to see Draco, he’d missed him more than ever it seemed. He couldn’t wait to thank him for the bracelet, and to see if he liked the gift Harry had sent. 

 

“What’s that?” Ron asked as the boys packed their trunks, and he gestured to Harry’s wrist. 

 

Momentarily, Harry had no clue what he was talking about, but then he realised his sleeve had lifted as he went to close his trunk to reveal the glistening silver on his wrist. He blushed, “Oh, it’s just- a present.”

 

Ron looked curious, “Pretty fancy.” he commented. “Who from?” 

 

There was a hesitation that if any second longer would have seemed strange, but just in time Harry answered, “It’s from Sirius.” 

 

He felt incredibly flustered, and before his best friend could ask any more questions he picked up his trunk and left the room hastily, hoping that Ron didn’t mention the bracelet to Harry’s godfather. That would make for something very awkward indeed. They were to be getting the knight bus to Hogsmeade, something Harry wasn’t particularly looking forward to, and Tonks and Remus were to be taking them. They were waiting downstairs in the kitchen talking to Mr Weasley, Harry joined them after escaping the bracelet subject. 

 

“Hi.” He said, and he offered Mr Weasley a nervous smile. Arthur’s answering grin was nothing but friendly, and he had been very clear with his nothing but gratitude towards Harry, but he still felt terrible. Whenever he looked at him, Harry just remembered sinking his serpent teeth into him. 

 

The three of them all chorused their greetings, and Remus asked if he had gotten his trunk down the stairs alright. Harry had noticed over the few days he had been there that they were still treating him as if he were very fragile, and also the fact that rooms seemed to go very hushed whenever he entered, like a room does when you were just the subject of the conversation. Of course, he knew Sirius definitely wouldn’t gossip about what Harry had trusted him with, but… well. Remus was different. Did he know about the actual part Harry had played in that hellish nightmare?  

 

“Yeah.” He said thinly, “It’s in the hall.”

 

They fell back into quiet, and Harry, finding himself growing increasingly uncomfortable by the silence, sighed heavily and left the room. Hermione and Ginny were bringing their things down the stairs, smiling brightly when they saw him. They seemed to be the only ones treating him entirely normally. 

 

“Hi, Harry.” Ginny said, before making a face, “Back to school.”

 

“Unfortunately.” Harry agreed, trying to ignore the fluttering sensation in his stomach. The closer it got, the more excited he got for seeing Draco. The way the card had read “Love, Draco” seemed engraved in his brain - suddenly it was all he could think about. The worries of the nightmares and snakes and going back to Hogwarts faded away, and he found himself grinning stupidly. 

 

By the time everybody had gathered their things and were filing out of the door, it was nearly midday. The bus was easily flagged down and they all clambered on, it was so full that they couldn’t all sit together. Remus stayed with Harry, Ron and Hermione, up on the very top deck. The first and only time Harry had been on the Knight Bus, it had been night, and it had been scattered with beds which couldn’t possibly have given a good night’s sleep. Now, the beds had been replaced with sofas and armchairs, all of which didn’t seem very secure. As the bus whirled through streets, they all found themselves feeling rather sick. 

 

“What are you so happy about?” Ron asked, noting how Harry looked strangely pleased despite the less than comfortable journey. 

 

“Nothing.” Harry said, much too quickly, before adding, “I just really love buses.” 

 

The statement was an obvious lie, but he was too excited to care, he didn’t even acknowledge the blatant looks of disbelief that he got from the others. The journey wasn’t too long, however it still managed to seem like an age, every moment that he still hadn’t seen Draco stretched the time out even further. Eventually, the bus came to a halt, and they got to their feet and managed to haul all of their things off of the bus. Remus and Tonks weren’t going to walk up to the castle with them, so they wished the six of them a good term beside the bus, the driver seemed impatient. They were about to part ways when Remus placed a hand on Harry’s shoulder. 

 

“Harry.” He said, it sounded like he was being very careful with his words. “I don’t know if you’ve been told this but… well. Try to trust Snape as best as you can, he’s on our side.”

 

Frowning, Harry shook his head, “What do you-”

 

“Snape is going to be helping you to control your,” he paused, thinking of the right word, “Dreams.”

 

Harry felt himself pale, if there was anybody he hated with a passion, it was Snape. He wanted to argue, and he wanted to press the old Defence professor for more of an explanation, but before he knew it the doors of the Knight Bus were closing and the triple-decker wheeled clumsily down the road before vanishing. 

 

“What was that about?” Hermione asked. 

 

“Who cares, can we just get up to the castle?” Fred grumbled, he was rubbing his side as if it was in pain, and he looked in an incredibly bad mood considering he barely ever let his grin slip, “That bus probably cracked by bloody rib.” 

 

***************

 

Whether it was fate or sheer good look, Harry didn’t know, but the moment himself, the Weasleys and Hermione entered the entrance hall, Draco was leaving the Great Hall after lunch, on his own. When he saw them all, he froze, and his eyes flickered to Harry’s instantly. He gazed into him, his wide grey eyes breaking right through Harry’s natural guard and making him feel weak at the knees. Harry’s heart melted. It seemed like months since he had seen him, not a couple of weeks, and he wished so badly he could charge right up to him and wrap him in the tightest embrace possible. 

 

_Love, Draco_. The image of that elegant slope of letters whirled through his brain. Fred and George had already seen their best friend Lee and headed off to join him, Ron and Hermione were already near the staircase; having not noticed Harry had briefly stopped. Ginny hovered uncertainly, though, and Harry really wished she would go away. Of course, though, she wouldn’t. The freeze was over very quickly as Harry continued to follow the others, but as he went, he passed Draco. 

 

“Room of requirement at 8.” he murmured softly, so soft that maybe even Draco wouldn’t have heard. Still, as he looked over his shoulder, Draco was watching him go and he nodded. There was a hint of a rare smile playing about the Slytherin boy’s lips, and it made Harry feel a floating sensation.  

He had made it long enough waiting to see Draco again, but now it just felt like even more torture. So close yet so far away… 

With a sigh, Harry tried to push the thought from his mind, in hopes it would distract him from the dizzy feeling of nervous excitement. He hadn’t felt like this about  _ anyone _ before. Of course, all those months ago, Draco had made him feel almost as, he couldn’t think of any better way to describe it,  _ loved up _ . Suddenly a whole new nest of butterflies had introduced themselves and it seemed as if the air buzzed with a feeling that was basically indescribable. All he knew was that for the first time, there was no tension. He didn’t feel worried or unsure, he didn’t feel like what he and Draco had was something cursed. He just felt  _ happy _ . 

 

***************

  
  


Harry had managed to will the door to the Room of Requirement into existence by thinking of the place that had grown so familiar to just him and Draco, and opened the door soundlessly. He felt his heart thud a little harder when he noticed that Draco had his back to him. He was wearing a black shirt that stretched magnificently across his body, clinging to his shoulders. He had obviously dreamed a piano into existence, for he sat at it, playing something beautiful. Harry remembered the night that they had made up, when he had first discovered Draco’s musical talent. He was so deeply lost in the enchanted notes he played, his arms moving with a grace that, to Harry, looked almost unimaginable. Closing the door before anybody else walked past the room and noticed it was occupied, Harry leaned up against it, not wanting to interrupt the sounds that filled the room with a warmth. This song wasn’t sad or lonely, it was loving and it seemed like a hug. When it came to an end, he found himself missing the  wonder of Draco’s music, but he was glad it meant they could speak. 

 

“Draco,” he breathed, just about audible to the other boy, “You play so beautifully.” 

 

When Draco turned around, his eyes were wide and he suddenly beamed out rays of light that they’d never seemed to hold before. Getting to his feet, he hung back, a little shy. They both stood for a moment, simply smiling and gazing over one another, but then they couldn’t take it anymore. Harry practically ran to where Draco stood beside the piano, he threw his arms around him. The moment they touched he felt safe, he didn’t even think about the nightmares that had been going on inside his head, he didn’t feel any touch of sad darkness, he just felt…  _ home _ . Even more at home than he had felt with Sirius and the Weasley’s, more at home than when ever he stayed at the burrow. It was something entirely different,  it was something that had always seemed so out of reach and now he held it right in the palms of his hands. For a moment, they lingered, noses brushed against one another, their breaths the only part of them that touched the other’s lips. 

 

“Never go away like that again.” Draco said, and he sounded almost pained. Harry realised it was the first thing he’d heard him say since he’d last seen him - when they had  _ nearly  _ argued but somehow didn’t, and Harry had given Draco the lightest kiss he could. He’d regretted the lame excuse of affection the whole time he’d been away from his boyfriend, but it was his time to make up for it. 

Closing the gap between them, Harry kissed Draco. It was a kiss that fed a craving that had been gnawing at his heart for so long, and suddenly he realised no matter how much of Draco he kissed, it would never be enough. He wanted  _ more _ . And somehow, he sensed that Draco did as well. The way he was touching Harry was different, the way his hands roamed gradually across his back, sliding down to his waist, gripping him like he’d never ever let him go again. 

 

“I won’t.” Harry replied, a very delayed response, grinning as he spoke breathily, “I’m never leaving you.” 

 

They reignited, their flame never fully dying, never able to keep after for a split second. 

 

Still keeping himself attached to Harry, Draco murmured into him, “What happened?”

 

Harry had managed to keep all of the memories at bay, he’d stopped worrying about what it had all meant because all he had had to think about was seeing Draco. It seemed, though, that now they were together again, he couldn’t keep it all inside for any longer. He’d known Draco would ask, but he really didn’t feel like talking about it at that moment. He shook his head, stroking the back of his hand across Draco’s cheek, “Why don’t we talk about that later?” he asked, a slight shake to his voice. 

 

Draco noticed the tremble, he pulled back, keeping his hands on Harry’s waist but getting a better look at him. He furrowed his brow, “What happened, Harry?” 

 

For a moment, he said nothing, but then he knew the longer he held off from explaining, the longer it would until the got to touch again. Harry exhaled his reluctance, trying to think of how he could talk about the nightmare without having to  _ talk  _ about it. Draco was looking at him growing concern.

 

“Alright, it’s nothing to worry about, not really.” Harry said slowly, his tone already giving away that it really  _ was  _ something to worry about. “It was Ron’s dad, he was really hurt.”

 

Despite the hatred his father had for the Weasley family, Draco’s concerned expression only grew. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry noticed that a sofa had started to materialise up against the wall, and Draco took Harry’s hand, guiding him over to it. 

“What do you mean?” He asked as they seated themselves down on the cushions, they faced each other and their legs were knotted as one. “How was he hurt? Is he okay?”

 

Avoiding Draco’s eyes, the film that he had managed to ban from his mind replayed itself at growing speed as he thought of how it had felt when he had sunk his dream-granted fangs into the skin of his best friend’s father, how Mr Weasley had looked all bandaged up as he spent nights in a hospital bed, how he winced every time he moved just a little too much. The flash of rage that had returned to Harry in  _ real life,  _ back in Dumbledore’s study - it didn’t exist only in his sleep. 

 

“I had… I had this dream.” Harry tried to explain, he couldn’t deal with the way Draco was looking at him. The concern in his eyes would have usually made Harry feel glad, it was some of the evidence that Draco genuinely  _ cared  _ for him, but it really wasn’t helping him at that moment. “Except it wasn’t a dream. It was - it was real. It was like a warning that he was being attacked, I don’t know where it was and I don’t know how it happened, but he got bitten loads by a snake and he nearly died.” 

 

He spoke with the stops and starts, he didn’t even know if he was making any sense. Draco tightened the hold he had on their interlaced fingers, and he softly told Harry that he was okay, to take deep breaths. 

“He went to hospital, though, but they probably wouldn’t have found him if it weren’t for me.”

 

“That’s good then.” Draco said, but he didn’t sound at all certain whatsoever. “So you saved his life?”

 

“That’s not all.” Harry spoke softly. He hesitated. The only other person he had spoken to about the frightening point of view he had possessed in the dream was Sirius, and he was almost certain that Sirius had told Remus, and who knew if Remus would tell anybody. But this was  _ Draco _ . 

Taking a deep breath, Harry tried to work out how to say it without sounding insane which would definitely ruin their night together. 

 

“You can tell me.” Draco mumbled, as if reading Harry’s mind. He lifted their joined hands and placed a kiss on Harry’s knuckles. Strangely, it brought back memories of in the hospital, when Mrs Weasley had done that exact same thing to Mr Weasley. It had seemed such a sweet and loving gesture to Harry, and despite himself he almost gave a watery eyed smile. 

Inhaling once again, Harry thought of the dream, he thought of how he was possibly evil, how he had injured somebody who had been nothing but kind to him… Then he felt the kiss on his hand again, he saw the love and the caring darkness of Draco’s eyes that only he had seen.  

 

“I think… I think  _ I  _ am the one who attacked Mr Weasley.” He whispered. Draco didn’t say anything, but he frowned, face knotted as he thought those words over. “It didn’t seem like a dream, it felt so  _ real _ … I remember all those bites that came from  _ me _ . I was the snake.”

 

Silence. He wondered what would happen next. Part of him was convinced that Draco would pull away from him and leave, say that he couldn’t even touch somebody who would do such a thing. But then he shook his head. It even looked as if he might smile. 

 

“Harry.” He said, “How could you be a  _ snake _ ?” 

 

“Well…” Harry tried to think of an answer, but couldn’t. “I just know that- it was  _ me _ . I’m  _ evil _ , Draco, I’m a  _ monster _ .”

 

“Shh, shh baby.” Draco cut him off, he didn’t even pause when he realised what he had just called Harry. It just felt so right, so he stayed with it. When he had been recounting everything, Harry hadn’t even realised that he had started to cry, he only noticed when he felt Draco’s familiar touch wipe the teardrops away. “You’re not a monster.”

 

“Then how do you explain the nightmare?” Harry asked, feeling himself growing more and more frustrated. He wished they had just sticked to making out, that was the only distraction he had had and now he had no choice but to face the reality again.  

 

Seeing that frustration, Draco made a noise of sympathy and he looked almost pained as he couldn’t think of any explanation to soothe Harry. He moved even closer, it hadn’t even seemed like there was any space between the two of them but now there definitely wasn’t. 

“All that I can say to explain it is that you simply had a feeling, and you were right. Even though it was right, it was still a dream, Harry. Somehow, you knew that you needed to save your friend’s dad. That’s all there was to it.” 

 

“But-”

 

“Listen to me.” Draco interrupted again. “If you’re evil, then I’m Satan incarnate.” 

 

Though he didn’t exactly laugh, more breath came out of Harry’s nose than usual and a slight smile teased at his lips. Harry’s calming down seemed to cheer Draco up too, and he leaned in so their noses brushed again. 

 

“Anything else you want to talk about?”  he asked lightly. 

 

For a second, Harry considered whether or not he should talk to Draco about Luna. But he knew that would just cause more stress and the mood would be completely ruined. Besides, he also knew that Luna definitely wouldn’t tell anybody about them, it would remain a secret until Draco and Harry decided the time was right for it to out. The wild panic had eased off of his shoulders, so the feeling of happiness seeped back into him and a grin lit up his face. 

 

“Nothing.” He whispered. “Nothing else.”

 

Draco grinned, and his eyes glinted a little. “Good. Because there’s something  _ I’d  _ like to do.” 

 

He reached out and pulled Harry onto his lap, the Gryffindor boy straddling him. Getting the hint, Harry chuckled as he lowered his lips back to meet Draco’s. Instantly, he grew breathless and he got that numb feeling in the back of his head when he was taken over by passion and love.  _ Love _ … 

 

As they moved with one another, Harry’s hands toyed with the material of his shirt, up to pull lightly at his black collar. Then he felt something, and he glanced down. 

 

“You’re wearing it!” he exclaimed, a little surprised but mostly just pleased. He’d sent Draco his Christmas gift - a silver pin with a ruby embedded into the centre, it glistened in the low candle-light. 

 

Draco rolled his eyes, “Of course I’m wearing it. I love it.”

 

“You do?” Harry asked, his heart jumping in his chest. He had been a little uncertain concerning that matter, but he could always tell when Draco was being sincere. He stroked his finger over it before lifting his hand back to Draco’s face. He couldn’t stand not touching some part of him. 

 

“I do.” Draco nodded, and he grinned. “I had to hide it, but I love it.”

 

“I didn’t know for sure.” Harry explained shyly, “You know, it being the Gryffindor gem and all. I wasn’t sure if that would be a problem-”

 

“Harry.” Draco stopped him, and he laughed softly. “I love it. It reminds me of you and I’m never having it off my person.” 

 

“And I love my bracelet.” Harry said, lifting his arm so that his sleeve fell, the silver band gleamed. “Thank you.”

 

“It was my pleasure.” Draco said, looking more than pleased, his smile ever widening.

 

The things he kept saying all made Harry feel weak at the knees but also stronger than ever - stronger in the knowledge that what they had was real. Deciding to stop interrupting the moment with his nervous talking, Harry kissed Draco some more. His fingers started to play with the buttons of his black shirt, and he only went on when he got a nod confirmation. Gradually, the material fell, revealing the pale skin stretched across his slim but toned chest, and Harry bit his lip. 

 

“You’re beautiful.” He said. 

 

Draco looked amused, “You sound surprised. Are you only  _ just  _ looking at me?”

 

He was right, Harry had seen him naked before, only… this time, it felt different. They both felt it, it was clear. They were touching each other differently, looking at each other with a whole new loving light in their eye. Holding his gaze with Draco’s, Harry slowly rose back to his feet. He pulled Draco up too, and they encircled one another in their looped arms. Over his shoulder, Harry saw that the Room of Requirement was giving them something else. A huge bed was beginning to materialise, encased in rich curtains, covered in cushions. It was surrounded in more curtains, giving the room more of a dimly, romantically lit atmosphere. Turning back to Draco, he tilted his head, their foreheads touching. 

 

“Shall we?” he asked, the breaths from his murmur warming Draco’s face. 

 

Silent, Draco nodded. Holding onto each other, they moved closer to the bed. Harry fell back onto it, leaning up against the headboard. Hovering over him, Draco looked down at him with completely clear eyes. 

 

“Do you want to…?” he asked, gentle, not wanting to sound as if he was pressuring him. 

 

Harry thought. It was just over a year since the whole thing had started, and they’d been through so much. They’d waited so long, and… it was time. He nodded. 

 

“I want to.” he said. 

 

He pulled his shirt over his head. It was Draco’s turn to study his boyfriend, his eyes moving across Harry’s exposed chest before coming to a rest on his face. They stayed longer on his face, and he looked almost stunned as he admired the face staring right back at him. 

 

“Are you only  _ just  _ looking at me?” Harry teased, repeating Draco’s words from earlier with faux arrogance. 

 

Almost snorting with laughter, Draco shook his head. Harry shoved his shirt down onto the floor, Draco returned to leaning over him. They kissed some more, but then he started to gradually crawl back down the bed, his lips leaving trails down Harry’s neck, across his chest. He let his teeth graze against his skin, leaving his own mars of where he had been. It continued right down to the waistband of Harry’s trousers. He glanced up at Harry, who was watching him with barely open eyes, fighting to keep his breaths measured. He nodded his head before groaning huskily, “Take them off.”

 

He didn’t have to say so again, Draco swiftly unbuckled his belt, letting it fall to the ground. He slid his trousers down before taking off his own. They were both naked, which of course, had happened before, but… never like this. Harry wished he could say that he loved him. That would have made the moment as perfect as could be. Yet somehow, the words got stuck in his throat. Not to mention he really wasn’t sure how Draco would take that, and he didn’t want the moment to get ruined. He was too afraid to say it first. 

He focused instead on the way Draco was touching him, the way his kisses touched every possible part of him, each one sending new ripples of pleasure up his spine. 

Then, “Are you ready?” Draco asked. 

 

Harry looked at him. He took in his beauty, he took in how he was touching him like he was something gentle he wanted to take care of, he thought of all the things he was saying. He thought of how  _ just right  _ it felt. “Never been more ready.” he said softly. 

 

Draco nodded. His teeth pulled at the skin of his lip, followed closely by a slight lick of his lips. Then he closed the space again, kissing some more as his soft and tender touch took a hold on Harry’s hips. He signalled for him to turn over, so he did. He felt Draco behind him, he was breathing against his neck as he sucked gently at the skin of his neck. Then, Harry felt his touch massaging his lower body. Slowly, Draco inserted a finger into Harry, easing him into it. Harry let out a moan, what started as a flash moment of discomfort quickly turned to pleasure. Draco’s movements were speeding up gradually, and Harry was starting to feel more loose. Just when Harry’s gasps were growing more and more wild and he felt like he was fit to burst, Draco pulled his touch away. Though Harry knew it would return in an even better way just a moment later, he whimpered, pleading for more. 

 

Draco laughed, “I know, baby.”

That seemed to be his new signature name for Harry and he certainly wasn’t complaining - it made him feel just as good as his physical touch did. When Draco pressed himself up against Harry’s back again, he inhaled sharply, preparing himself. 

 

“Harry?” Draco then said, and he spoke pretty much into Harry’s ear, making him tingle. 

 

“Yeah?” Harry managed to say through his panting breaths. 

 

“I know what you think,” Draco replied, and he sounded hesitant, “But I’m a virgin.”

 

It was a spark of surprise, and Harry found himself smiling. He’d always thought… “But Pansy?” he asked. 

 

“We never did  _ that _ .” Draco said certainly, and even though Harry couldn’t really see his face, he knew that that was complete sincerity. “I would never do anything like that with anyone else. You’re the only one that I want, Harry.” 

 

At that, Harry  _ had  _ to turn around. He wanted to look into Draco’s dark eyes, he wanted to see what was his. He moved up onto his knees, and he cupped Draco’s face in his hands. His heart was racing, he felt burning love in his chest. Nothing else. 

 

“I love you.” Harry said. 

 

Draco’s eyes were wide, and his mouth was parted - shock. But then he glowed. He was a bursting starlight in the darkness and Harry wanted that light to envelope him. 

 

“I love you.” Draco said, and it sounded like he was scared, because it was the most honest thing he had ever spoken out loud. The real truth. 

 

They didn’t hesitate anymore. Draco enveloped him. They moved together, a dance of heavy breaths and gasps, whispered I love yous. Harry felt  _ free _ , as they melded into one. When they had both collapsed down onto the bed, they turned their heads, gazing at one another. 

 

“Did you mean that?” Draco asked, his voice low. 

 

Harry felt his heartbeat jump - had Draco not meant it when he said it? His voice shook a little, “I meant every word.” 

 

In response, Draco moved closer, pressing his lips against Harry’s. It felt different now - it had always felt amazing, any single touch, but now they had slept together for the first time… it felt like they were  _ perfect _ . It was what had been missing for the whole time. They were both tired, so they mostly quiet other than the sounds of their breaths. They made a wordless agreement to stay together all night, no sneaking back to their dorms. They wanted to stay together.

For what felt like the first time in eternities, Harry had a dreamless sleep. He lay on his side, Draco behind him, their bare bodies pressed together, his arm casing the two of them close. 

  
  


***********************

 

When Harry opened his eyes the next morning, it took a moment of thoughtless beaming before the reason for his inexplicable happiness came rushing back into his head. Memories of the previous night played like a slideshow in his head, the last one that settled the movie being Draco’s  _ I love you _ . He loved him… and Harry loved Draco. He’d never felt more loved up. A smile glued to his face, Harry turned around. The bed beside him was empty, that half of the duvet left neat. For a moment, Harry’s mood fell completely and his mind immediately flew to the worst. Had Draco said all of that just so Harry would sleep with him and then he could leave? Without a single word? 

 

Then, though, he noticed a scrap of parchment on the pillow. He picked it up.

 

_ Dear Harry,  _

_ I have to go, but I didn’t want to wake you.  _

_ Love, Draco. _

 

He hadn’t written anything about how amazing last night had been, but Harry suddenly felt stupid for even thinking for a  _ second  _ that Draco would have used him like that. It was almost as if his elegant scrawl spoke to him, and Harry knew that it had been just as magical to Draco as it had been to him. Of course, it would have been lovely to wake up beside him, but that time would come. He wondered how late he had slept - thankfully, it was a Saturday, so he wouldn’t get in trouble. He dressed quickly before he left, and got to the great hall in time for breakfast. His eyes instinctively skimmed the room for Draco, but he wasn’t sat with the Slytherin’s. When he got to the table, he found Ron sat with Fred and George. 

 

“Hi.” he said brightly, sitting down across from his best friend.

 

Instantly, he became aware that Ron looked curious and he remembered that he shared a room with him. He definitely would have noticed that Harry wasn’t in bed last night, and his bed hadn’t been slept in. He felt panic settle in. 

 

“Where’ve you been?” Ron asked. 

 

“Uh-” Harry only had a couple of seconds to think. “I was… sending a letter.”

 

“For a whole night?” Ron asked with raised eyebrows. 

 

“Didn’t realise you were  _ that  _ illiterate, Harry!” Fred joked, and Harry knew that his face was flamed up bright pink. 

 

“No, I just got up early.” He lied, knowing it was obvious he had only just rolled out of bed. 

 

“You didn’t come back last night.” Ron stated. 

 

“I did.” Harry said defensively. He heard the sharpness in his voice and tried to relax himself, “You were just conked out when I came in.” 

 

His guard was high, he suddenly felt jumpy. It was too hard, these secrets. He wished he could tell Ron, his best friend was supposed to know everything about him, and the more it carried on, the more frustrated and guilty he got with keeping it all in. Questions just made him feel even more terrible. 

 

“I’m certain-”

 

“Ron, drop it.” Harry said, his words rough. He felt frantic, and also knew that he was acting strangely. Ron was frowning, Fred and George were looking interested. “I came back last night, alright?” He said, trying to sound more relaxed and knowing that he really didn’t. 

 

Ron dropped it, though. Across the hall, Harry’s eyes latched onto Luna’s. He trusted her, but… suddenly he realised what a problem it was that she knew. If she knew, it was only a matter of time before the hidden relationship started to leak out into public knowledge. The thought made him feel a little sick, and he had no interest in the food in front of him, he had a feeling he’d just vomit if he tried to have even a single bite. 

  
“Excuse me.” He muttered, getting up and fighting the urge to sprint out of the room rather than walk. 


	22. revelations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey everyone, i'm very sorry again for the wait!

“I will teach you how to control your mind.” Snape said, his voice carrying through the pretty much empty room with an echo. “With my teaching, you will learn to block the visions that The Dark Lord is sending you. That is, if you can handle it.”

 

Harry glared at the patronising way his professor spoke to him. Remus had been right - Dumbledore had ordered that Snape teach Harry his occlumency skills, because he believed that the nightmare had been put in Harry’s head by Voldemort himself. Of course, this was sort of a good thing because it meant Harry wasn’t an evil snake, but it also meant that somehow, Voldemort had access to Harry’s head. Therefore, as much as Harry despised Snape, he figured the best thing to do was to go to the lessons. Especially if it would stop the more than unpleasant dreams. 

“How is he doing it?” Harry asked, failing to sound anything but hateful towards Snape. His mind lingered on the way he called him  _ The Dark Lord _ . He said it with an admiration, almost. “How is he accessing my mind?”

 

“The Dark Lord is an accomplished Legilimens. The mind is not a book to be flicked through at the simplest request, but those who practice Legilimency and are especially good at it can delve into one’s mind with no trouble at all, they can flick through every single memory in the victim’s head.” 

 

Harry thought about what filled his head - he was still replaying the night he had spent with Draco over and over again in his head. Feeling his face flame up, he asked, “You’re a Legilimens?” 

 

“Yes, Potter.” Snape confirmed, and his eyes glinted with a strange satisfaction. “And I’m going to be using my skill to delve right into  _ your  _ mind… let’s see if you can keep me out.”

 

“But… but what if I can’t?” Harry said, voice rising with panic along with his chest as his heart started to thud uncontrollably. “What if I can’t keep you out? I don’t want you seeing inside my mind!” 

 

Snape, however, looked amused. “If you have something you’re so keen to hide, then your motivation to do well at this should be strong.” 

 

Given their strained relationship, Snape definitely took a lot of pleasure in watching Harry’s anxiety grow more and more wild. He didn’t even tell Harry  _ how  _ to master occlumency, but Harry knew that he was about to jump straight into his thoughts. He silently cursed the headmaster for tasking  _ Snape  _ with these lessons - though it seemed nobody else was quite as good as the potions master was with tricks of the mind. Harry tried to think of anything  _ but  _ Draco. He thought instead of pointless things that had no relation to his personal life at all, he started silently singing some terrible muggle song he had heard on the radio before. 

 

“Let’s see if you can resit.” Snape said, before pointing his wand at Harry and saying, “Legilimens!” 

It felt like a force clawing through the skin of Harry’s forehead and seeping right into his brain. The song continued on through his mind but the legilimency was too strong, he could feel it breaking away. It was weakening enough of it’s own, but with his determined efforts of keeping himself distracted, he collapsed to the floor, unable to hold himself up. His head ached. Lifting his hands to his head, Harry stared up at Snape, eyes wide. Snape looked bored. 

 

“Clear your mind of all thought, Potter.” He instructed harshly, “If your mind is blank, you aren’t vulnerable. No thought, no emotion, and you’re on your way to perfecting occlumency.” 

 

Harry wondered if that was a trick - would that just make it easier for Snape to read his mind? Would he see the secrets he had worked so hard to hide? At Snape’s order, he rose back to his feet. Without warning, Snape infiltrated his head again. He tried to clear his mind, tried to envision nothing but a black screen behind his eyes. It worked for a moment, but then he started to see memories…  _ anything but Draco  _ he tried to force himself, and for a little while it worked, all that flickered in his mind’s eye were thoughts of Christmas, talking to Sirius, Mr Weasley, laughing with Ron and Hermione… 

 

Then he fell to the floor again, panting, scratching at the ground as if scared he’d slip. 

Snape was growing impatient. “I told you to empty yourself of emotion!” he snapped. “Fools who wear their hearts proudly on their sleeves, who cannot control their emotions, who wallow in sad memories and allow themselves to be  _ provoked _ , or in other words,  _ weak  _ people - they’re the ones who stand no chance against  _ his  _ powers!” 

 

Harry knew he wore his heart on his sleeve, he let people in. He was controlled by his emotions. Was that weakness? Maybe it was. Draco had certainly weakened him. But without those, he would be like Snape - empty and cruel. Glaring, he rose to his feet. A new found determination boiled in his blood. 

“I’m not  _ weak _ .” He said. 

“Then  _ prove it _ !” Snape retorted. “Legillimens!” 

Again, he had caught Harry off guard. And Harry knew he shouldn’t have thought about how Draco weakened him. Suddenly, it was like he could feel Draco’s touch again, he could hear his lusting breaths and how he had told Harry he loved him. The intrusion was over in a second, and Snape pulled back, lowering his wand. He looked shocked, as he stared at Harry. 

 

Harry wanted to say something but he couldn’t think what - he shook, he felt like he would collapse again. Feeling himself pale, Harry wished he could turn and sprint from the room. He waited for the insults, for Snape to use what he had seen in whatever possible way he could that would make to try and put Harry down, to make him feel ashamed. But he said nothing. They stood, staring at one another. 

Then, “Let’s go again.” He said, his voice calm. “Clear your mind.” 

 

He went again. And that time, Harry’s mind  _ was  _ blank. Not because he was trying, but because he was too startled to think, his sensed had numbed to nothing. When Snape broke away again, he turned and put his wand down on his desk. 

“You may go, Potter.” He said, not letting the young boy see his face. 

 

Harry was confused. Would Snape tell somebody? Would he speak to Draco’s parents? Surely they were friends somehow, both in the ranks of Voldemort. He would try and trick Harry into thinking he hadn’t seen it, but then when Harry least expected it, the secret would come out and destroy him. But somehow, he had a feeling that Snape didn’t  _ want  _ to say anything. Like he felt guilty for going that far. 

 

“Leave.” He said again, the usual Snape sharpness returned. 

 

Without hesitation, Harry turned and sped from the room, not looking back. 

 

******************

 

The ground of Hogsmeade was blanketed with a white layer of snow, Harry, Ron and Hermione were all wrapped up in bundles of coats, scarves and woollen hats. As they walked down the road, Harry couldn’t help but notice how many couples were walking past with their hands interlocked, looking loved up. He wished so badly that he and Draco could be like one of those couples, spending days in the shopping village together, going to get coffee without having to worry what everybody would say if they saw the two of them together. 

Harry hadn’t told Draco about what Snape had seen, neither had he told him about the fact that Luna knew about them, yet Draco was  _ still _ extremely paranoid. Paranoid to the point of acting distant all of a sudden, barely speaking to Harry, when they were together it was just action, they’d had sex twice more over the past few weeks, but they didn’t  _ talk _ . He couldn’t imagine how he would react if he discovered those secrets. Harry hated lying, though, and he felt selfish for keeping it from his boyfriend, if he could even refer to him in that way. It was just because he knew that if Draco found out, he would want to end it. Harry really didn’t want to end it, not when they had managed to get through so many other things. 

 

Constantly losing himself into thoughts and worries of his relationship, Harry had almost forgotten how awful he always resulted in feeling whenever he ventured into the Wizarding World. He’d stopped getting papers delivered to Hogwarts and tried to ignore the news as must as he could - but nobody else had forgotten about Harry Potter, the crazy delusionist trying to convince everybody that Lord Voldemort had returned. Of course, all of the papers portrayed him as the bad one,  _ Dumbledore  _ as the bad one - Professor Umbridge being the saviour, so kindly lending her time to Hogwarts to keep it under control. It was ridiculous, all around him he could hear muttering. He’d followed Ron and Hermione into a bookshop, which was unusually loud. Or rather, the sounds around him seemed like they were screams. Encased in the bookshelves, he was starting to feel hot and his legs were shaking… he hadn’t felt like this since he’d had the panic attack all those months ago before going to Diagon Alley. Suddenly he felt disorientated, he couldn’t work out real from fake, he couldn’t even tell if the voices hissing in his ear were real. 

 

_ He’s crazy _

_ Psycho  _

_ Liar……. _

 

“I have to go outside.” Harry gasped, clutching at his chest. The eyes of strangers all glared in his direction, he felt like he was ensnared and suddenly he wished that he had just stayed up at Hogwarts. 

 

“Harry?” Ron asked, “Are you alright mate?” 

 

“I’m fine.” He lied, barely managing to exhale the words as he backed towards the door. 

 

“I’ll come with you-” Ron started, but Harry shook his head. He wanted to be alone, he didn’t want to talk about it. 

 

“See you in a minute.” He said, before he practically fell out of the shop. Not caring that the icy snow was freezing and damp, he crouched down onto the ground with his back against the wall of the bookshop, he rested his head against his knees, breathing  _ in  _ and  _ out _ . He managed to calm himself down surprisingly fast - though he made a mental note to himself that he didn’t do well in shops.  

 

Just when he had started to feel calm enough to stand back up, he groaned when he heard a familiar voice. 

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost, Potter.” Pansy rounded the corner - not alone. She was walking close to Draco, just the two of them, not even with their gang of Slytherins. Alone. “Is it Cedric? Is it your parents? Anybody else that you’ve gotten killed?”

 

Usually, her words wouldn’t have affected him. But as she giggled in her devilish way, Harry suddenly felt as if he would just dissolve right onto the spot, a puddle of tears on the snowy ground. His trembles had started straight back up again, his knees knocking. What made it worse, was when he met Draco’s eyes. 

He wondered if he would say anything, a foolish part of him lit up with the hope that Draco would defend him, like any other boyfriend would. Draco, however, was silent. His eyes were wide and avoiding to rest anywhere near Harry, and he was keeping his mouth zipped shut. Until Pansy looked at him, nudging him in the ribs, and he smiled. He  _ smiled _ . Completely oblivious to how Harry was screwing up his hands into fists, digging his nails into the palms until it felt like his hands would start to bleed, but he felt too weak to even try to fight back with words of his own. He just fell back, and his head knocked the wall so that it would definitely hurt later but he didn’t have it in him to care at that very moment. 

 

“How about that blood-traitor, Weasley’s dad?” Pansy pushed her cruel words, harsh, “The news said he got attacked. Was that your fault, too?” 

 

_ Yes _ , Harry said to himself,  _ it was my fault.  _ He had to squeeze his eyes shut when he started seeing it again, seeing through the eyes of a serpent as Mr Weasley got bitten again and again and again… 

By the time he had opened his eyes again, Pansy and Draco were walking off, her cackles carrying back to him. 

 

“He’s a freak.” She was spitting her toxic words to Draco himself, and he wasn’t even saying anything. Not a single word. Harry was certain he heard weak chuckles as Pansy continued, “A total  _ nutjob _ .” 

 

Watching them go, Harry fought hard to keep tears from sliding down his cheeks. He couldn’t help it, though, he wanted to sob for the world to hear. How could Draco look no nonchalant whenever Pansy said those sorts of things to him, but also say that he loved him? Take his virginity? They slept in each other’s arms, Draco said that Harry was safe when they were together - but was he safe? Not really. He wasn’t safe from the  _ words _ , the ones that clawed through his skull and settled into his mind, the self-destructive thoughts that oozed through his blood. Absent-mindedly, he played with the bangle hidden beneath his shirt, thinking of the note it had come with. 

 

_ Love Draco _ … 

He’d believe that when Draco really acted like that. 

 

“Are you okay, Harry?” Flinching, Harry turned to face Ron and Hermione, he hadn’t heard them leaving the shop. 

 

“I’m fine.” he lied yet again, the fake words were second-nature to him now. “I just- it was hot in there.” 

 

“Did you eat breakfast?” Hermione continued with her questions, “You look a little faint. Why don’t we go to the Three Broomsticks?”

 

“No.” Harry said, much too fast, but if he couldn’t handle going into the bookshop he didn’t know how he would cope with the pub that was always so crowded that it was brimming, he couldn’t imagine how everybody would look at him there. “No, you go. I think I’m going to go back to the castle.”

 

Ron shook his head, “Mate, we’ll come with you-”

 

“No, honestly. I’m fine.” Harry tried for a bright voice, a bright grin, but they obviously didn’t buy it. They were looking at him through anxiously narrowed eyes. “I just want to be on my own.”

 

Reluctantly, the others agreed to go to the pub without him, Hermione gave him a hug and told him to rest, he looked like he hadn’t slept a wink. And he  _ hadn’t _ , he’d been up all night thinking about what Snape had seen in his Occlumency lessons. He watched Ron and Hermione walk off together, and their heads were bowed closed together, probably having whispered conversation about him, worrying about him. He hated that everybody worried about him so much, it made him feel weak and pathetic. And he was always letting them down, again and again and again. 

 

As these thoughts whirled around his head, Harry moodily shuffled back up towards Hogwarts, trying to ignore the bone-chilling cold that insisted on making him as comfortable as possible. He had his eyes firmly fixed on the ground before him, at least that was until he noticed someone just a little way ahead. He’d recognise that long blonde hair and eccentric clothing anyday. Despite saying he wanted to be on his own, for some reason seeing Luna made him smile to himself. Though she was odd, she was the only person he could talk to and trust. He didn’t feel like he had to be wary with what he told her, she truly was a good friend.

 

“Alright, Luna?” he asked when he was within eyeshot. 

 

She turned to look at him, she had a dreamy expression on her face. “Oh. Hello Harry.” she greeted him, “I was just on my way back to the castle.”

 

“Yeah, same.” Harry muttered, “You’re not in the mood for a shopping trip either, then?”

 

“Oh, well, I was.” Luna said. “But the town is so full of nargles, I didn’t realise how much they came out in the snow. I don’t want a fuzzy brain for our DA meeting tomorrow.”

 

They were having a Dumbledore’s Army meeting the next day and Harry hadn’t even remembered, he felt like such a complete and utter mess. He made a mental note to think of something to cover in the next lesson, continuing to walk beside Luna quietly. Then, she said, “You don’t have to walk with me, Harry. I won’t be offended if you want some time alone with your thoughts.” 

 

“No, I want to.” he said. 

Harry was ever grateful for how she didn’t pry. She would say uncomfortable things sometimes but she never tried to push her nose in where it wasn’t really wanted. This time, though, it  _ was  _ wanted. He just didn’t know how to mention what it was that was bothering him. When he opened his mouth to try, the feelings he wanted to voice wouldn’t come, they just died on the tip of his tongue. 

 

“Is something the matter?” she asked, they’d walked so long in near silence that the gates were coming into view. 

 

“No.” he tried to lie, worried that he’d just sound pathetic if he was truthful, but he could hear the weight of misery in his own voice so clearly that he heaved a sigh, exhausted by the mixture of confusing emotions that were always nagging at him, always unpredictable - always under the control of Draco.

“Yes.” he admitted then, not having to turn his head to know she was looking at him with vague disbelief. 

 

She didn’t ask, just waited until Harry felt ready to go into more detail on his worse than bad mood. As he gathered his thoughts, he kept thinking about what Draco had been doing with Pansy - had she asked him as a date? Had  _ he  _ asked  _ her _ ? Even though Harry had said he didn’t want to do the fake relationship thing, how did he know that Draco wouldn’t still do it? 

 

“Luna?” he asked eventually, when he felt bad for bothering her yet not even speaking when he did it. “Why do you think people push away people that they love?” 

 

She didn’t seem surprised by his question, and she didn’t take a long time to think about it. “Maybe they’re scared of what people would think.” she said, pausing for a moment. “And sometimes people are just scared about the power another person has over them, so they try and distance themselves. When they realise how much they’ve started depending on someone, they push them away out of fear of becoming weak. They don’t want to get addicted.”

 

Harry frowned. The first part was definitely probable - Draco was  _ terrified  _ of what people would think. But  _ addicted _ ? Surely not. That was how Harry felt, but Draco seemed to be doing just fine without him. As if she could hear the cogs whirring in Harry’s brain, Luna offered another suggestion. 

“Or maybe Draco is pushing you away because he thinks he’s bad for you. He doesn’t want to hurt you anymore, so he’s trying to show  _ you _ how to be without  _ him _ .”

 

Of course she knew it was about Draco - he didn’t have to say his name. It was always Draco on his mind. Could that be it? But hadn’t Harry told him how  _ he  _ felt evil himself? Hadn’t he told him about the horrible serpent dream? How could Draco be bad for him? Luna hadn’t really helped, to his disappointment. Or she  _ had,  _ it was just a mixture of all three things. 

 

Draco hated how he felt. That much was clear. Even if he said he loved Harry, and Harry sometimes believed that, he still hated himself for feeling that way. About another  _ boy _ , yes, but mostly just about Harry. They’d stopped by the gates, Luna seemingly sensing that he wouldn’t talk like this within earshot of any other students. Harry glared down the hill they’d walked up, looking towards Hogsmeade where Draco was with Pansy. Where he’d smiled as she said those horrible things. 

 

“The only way he’s hurting me is by acting like this.” Harry muttered, more to himself than to Luna. Still, she patted him on the arm lightly. 

 

“My mother always told me the ones we love hurt us the most.” she said, sounding very matter of fact. “I didn’t believe it at first, love is beautiful. But then she died and I realised because of how much I love her, there’ll always be a part of me in pain.” 

 

Just for the flicker of a second, she looked like she wasn’t lost in the clouds, she looked completely serious. It was a strange look to see on Luna - for the tiniest fraction of a second, she didn’t look as if she was floating through a dream. She looked sad. Just as quickly though, it was gone, and she smiled. 

 

“People don’t always mean to push you away, Harry. You don’t mean to push out Ron and Hermione, do you?” 

 

Harry barely thought about how he pushed them out. He didn’t mean to do it, he just didn’t want to get too close to spilling the truth - he was scared of what they’d think. Scared of how they would react if they knew about his dirty little secret. Twisting in his chest was a searing fist of flames, tightening a claw like grip around his heart. They used to be so close… 

 

“You’re greatly missed, Harry.” She said, and she squeezed his shoulder and smiled, a small smile. “Even if you don’t think you’ve gone anywhere.”

 

And with that, she walked through the gates in her airy way, steps that barely touched the ground, leaving the words in her wake, ringing through Harry’s brain like a bell. 

 

**************

 

Harry was sat at the end of the bed in the room of requirement, not listening to a word that Draco said from behind him. He was sat leaning against the headboard, his naked body concealed only by the bedding around his torso, not even thinking how strange it was to see Harry looking so… grumpy. Especially after what they had just done, Harry had the lovebites all over his skin to show for it. The Gryffindor boy hadn’t even felt like going to see Draco, and it had been made even more of a task than usual when Ron had stopped him, wanting to know where he was going. That had resulted in Harry getting a lot more defensive than necessary, and he’d spoken with a harsh tone when he demanded that his friend move out of the way. 

 

“...do it tomorrow?” Draco had been talking and Harry hadn’t even been paying attention, the only thing that pushed him out of his silent musing was the fact that Draco mentioned tomorrow. Another thing Harry was hiding - he had Dumbledore’s Army tomorrow. He had a whole group of rebellion that he was in charge of, and he hadn’t even told his boyfriend anything about it. He didn’t even  _ trust  _ Draco, not really. Not because he thought he would tell himself, but if he knew, that was a Slytherin, and Slytherin would definitely run to Umbridge. Secrets and lies, it seemed that was all Harry could do. 

 

“Uh- tomorrow?” Harry asked, frowning.

 

Draco made a noise of impatience. “Have you been listening to a word I said?” 

 

When Harry didn’t respond, though, just stared at the ground as he got lost in thought once more, Draco looked worried. He shuffled to sit beside Harry, placing an arm around him. Harry wanted to shake the arm off. “What’s the matter, babe?” he asked. 

 

“Nothing.” Harry said, much too heated to be telling the truth. He sounded like every last thing was the matter. 

 

Draco leaned around him, placing a hand under Harry’s chin as if to pull him close for a kiss - and then Harry  _ did  _ shrug Draco’s hold off, moving away to create a space as big as the bed would allow. 

 

“Don’t.” he muttered irritably. 

 

Pursing his lips, Draco lifted his eyebrows, before narrowing his eyes into a glare. “What have I done  _ now _ ? Because you were up for kissing a few seconds ago. More than kissing, in fact!” When Harry said nothing, Draco’s voice got louder, angrier. “And don’t say  _ nothing  _ because you’re making it pretty fucking obvious that something’s pissed you off,  _ again _ .” 

 

Harry glared at him. “You know what.”

 

“No, I don’t!” Draco snapped, getting to his feet and yanking his boxers up off the floor, pulling them on before rounding back to look at Harry. “You seemed perfectly happy not long ago and now you’re being like  _ this _ !”

 

_ Total nutjob _ , Pansy’s words scratched at Harry’s brain, along with the memory of Draco’s smile… 

 

“Are you going to spit it out or should I just leave?” Draco was clearly fighting very hard not to tell. 

 

Harry, however, did not fight. He got to his feet too, definitely not caring about whether or not anybody found the two of them yelling in their underwear. “What Pansy said really hurt me!” he said, “I would have thought any other guy would  _ defend  _ their boyfriend when someone is bullying them, but not  _ you _ !” 

 

Looking angry, annoyed, bewildered and amused all at the same time, Draco rolled his eyes and scoffed,  _ “That’s  _ what this is about? You’re still worrying about  _ Pansy _ ?”

 

“Yes, I’m worrying!” Harry shouted, louder and louder. “It wouldn't be the first time if you ended up with your tongue up her arse when you’re apparently with me, would it? Were you there on a date?!”

 

“Harry-”

 

“Well,  _ stupid  _ me,  _ pathetic  _ me, fucking  _ idiot Harry  _ for thinking that his boyfriend would stick up for him when he’s being blamed for the death of his own  _ parents _ !” 

 

It seemed that two could play at the shouting game. Laughing in a way that one does when they think a situation is so ridiculous it’s funny, Draco retorted, “How many times, Harry? You think I can just defend you from Pansy and not have her be suspicious about why all of a sudden I’m on Potter’s side?!” 

 

“Sorry! I’m  _ sorry  _ for thinking that my boyfriend should care less about what people think,  _ irrelevant _ people, and care more about  _ me  _ for once!” 

 

It was hard to believe that just a couple of minutes before, they’d been sat peacefully, the room still a sense of calmness, candlelit and the feel of their lips on lips still fresh in their memories. Suddenly it was all ablaze, the Room of Requirement had turned into a raging volcano. 

 

“How many times, Harry?!” Draco demanded, practically spitting venom. “How many times do I have to say - I  _ can’t  _ defend you to them! People would ask questions! Why can’t you stop expecting so much from me?!”

 

“Excuse me?” Harry said, and he laughed himself. “You think defending your boyfriend is  _ so much _ ? Poor, precious little mummy’s boy Draco who can’t handle being asked for  _ anything  _ from  _ anyone!” _

 

He heard Draco’s sharp inhale, saw how he straightened up, his eyes glinted as he realised that they were doing this - fighting, yet again. 

“You mean Draco who would stop being a mummy’s boy at all because my family would  _ disown  _ me if they knew the truth?” He said, his volume had dropped. He was no longer shouting, but speaking in a low and fierce way. His hands were balled up into fists. “Draco who would get  _ killed  _ by his own father if the truth got out?”

 

Harry squeezed his eyes shut, wishing he could block the whole scene out. Wishing he could just get rid of the whole fight, erase the entire argument from his memory. But it was always going to be there. Draco was right, the truth would get him killed. But the secrets were killing Harry. All the lies, all the things he couldn’t say. All the things he hadn’t told his best friends. All the things he hadn’t told Draco. The fact that Snape knew, and Snape could easily tell Lucius. If that happened, it would all be Harry’s fault for not being smart enough to protect his mind from that one thing, the worst possible thing that Snape could have seen… 

The flames died. The room was still smoky though, they stood with a huge space between them, chests rising up and down as they tried to control their breaths. 

 

“It’s killing me right now.” he said it out loud, and he saw Draco’s eyes looked as if they were shining - as if he was trying extremely hard to keep the glass layer of tears from falling. “The secrets are killing me.”

 

Draco clearly wished he could erase the argument too. He started to say so, “Why don’t we just forget-”

 

“I have to go.” Harry cut him off. He knew that if they kept forgetting the arguments and the problems, it would just go on and on and on. Eventually it would be like Luna said - to stop the pain and the fighting, he would push Draco away. It would happen, it was inevitable.

 

“What do you mean?” Draco asked, his throat dry enough for his voice to crack, watching nervously as Harry started pulling on clothes. 

 

“I have to go.” He repeated. 

 

“No you don’t.” Draco shook his head, looking desperate. “No, Harry, I’m sorry. Let’s just- you don’t have to go. Stay with me.”

 

_ Stay with me _ . 

 

Harry wanted to. But he was tired and he was drained and he was sad. Suddenly he saw it - an eternity of being terrified about what people think, years of fear and secrets. Never ever being able to come clean to his friends, never having the good relationship he had had before back with them. He wouldn’t say goodbye, though. He’d never say goodbye to Draco, not officially. He just… he couldn’t let it go on. 

 

“I can’t.” he said. 

 

He moved forwards, towards Draco, and he pressed his lips to Draco’s forehead, his eyelids shut as he tried desperately to keep the tears from sliding down his cheeks. 

 

“Will you meet me on Thursday?” Draco asked, sounding frantic as Harry started to leave. 

 

“Yes.” Harry lied. 

 

He shouldn’t have lied, but he didn’t know what else to do. He couldn’t be honest, that would just hurt more. It would be the last lie, it had to be. Otherwise, the lies would bury him six feet underground. 

 

************

 

Ron was pacing. Harry opened the door of the room they shared, though, and he stopped in his tracks. Then he ran, which was pointless given the fact that he was about five steps away from his best friend, and stopped right in front of Harry. 

 

“Harry,” Ron said, sounding wild and urgent. “Harry, I followed you.”

 

Feeling himself pale, Harry tried to keep his face composed. What was Ron saying? Maybe if he pretended like he had no idea, it would work. Though he could feel the racing of his heart so badly that it was aching. “Followed me where?” 

 

“To the Room of Requirement!” Ron said, “And I saw Draco go in just after you!” 

 

He gulped. He felt sick. 

 

“Is he bullying you?” Ron demanded, and Harry felt the weight lighten a little, though it was still there, crushing the bones of his shoulders as he tried desperately to think of some kind of excuse. “How long has this been going on for? Because if that’s why you’ve been acting so weird all the time, we should tell-”

 

“No!” Harry said, too loud, too fast. Ron frowned, studying him and his odd reaction. 

 

“Harry, don’t be scared of that twat!” Ron pleaded, “Come on, we can tell Dumbledore right now-”

 

“He’s not bullying me.” Harry said, trying to will his words into some kind of magic spell that would make Ron drop the subject, but it didn’t work. 

 

Not believing that in the slightest, Ron lifted a hand to Harry’s shoulder. He placed it there gently, looking into Harry’s green eyes desperately, “Look, Harry-”

 

“I told you, he’s not!” Harry said again, shaking his head just like his knees and hands shook. “He just followed me, I don’t know why-”

 

But Ron had seen something. The air froze. Harry’s eyes widened. Ron was standing close enough that he could see where Harry hadn’t done up the top button of his shirt. The collar was slightly falling, and it revealed a deep purplish mark on his skin. Though it wasn’t a bruise, it was one of the hickeys Draco had left. They were usually so careful, but in his hurry, he’d forgotten to cover it. Both of them had eyes as wide as moons, the moons melting right into each other. 

 

“Oh.” Ron said. Just that. No accusations, no disgust, no questions.  _ Oh _ . He dropped his hand and stuffed it in his pocket before it could do any damage, and he finally dropped his gaze. He stared at the floor. 

 

“Ron, I-”

 

“You and Draco?” Ron said then. He didn’t even seem surprised at the fact that Harry was gay. Maybe he felt it, maybe he _ felt  _ disgust, but he wasn’t giving Harry any clues. 

 

Harry wanted to fly away. He looked over to the window - he imagined just standing in it and then falling, letting his arms carrying him like wings through the sky of the night. He wanted to go far away. Just as he had decided to try and end things, Ron found out. Right  _ then _ . He was the third person to find out.

 

“Please don’t say anything.” Harry whispered. There were so many more things he wanted to say, he wanted to explain, he wanted to  _ apologise,  _ but none of it would come. Ron probably felt the same - utterly speechless. When Ron didn’t say anything though, Harry’s hammering heart restarted. 

 

He closed the space between them again, and he went to grab onto Ron but then stopped just as his hands got close, thinking maybe Ron wouldn’t want any contact with Harry whatsoever. That was fair enough, he deserved that, but the one thing Harry  _ needed  _ was Ron to say nothing. Tears were suddenly cascading down Harry’s cheeks and he fell to the floor, on his knees,  _ begging _ . 

 

“Please, Ron, I know I shouldn’t have kept it from you and I will tell you anything you want to know soon, but  _ please _ , you have to promise me-”

 

“Okay.”

 

“-that you’ll keep this to yourself for a little while at least, I can’t be honest yet, I’m not ready. I know I don’t deserve your word but- wait,  _ what _ ?” He froze, staring up at Ron, shocked. 

 

“I won’t tell anyone.” Ron said with a shrug. “And get up off the floor, you idiot.”

 

Harry didn’t get up. Ron was looking at him without hatred, without an expression like he didn’t even know who Harry was anymore. It was such a relief that Harry’s sobs grew louder and he ended up curling in on himself on the floor, the cries scraping at his insides. After a moment of hesitation, Ron slowly crouched down on the floor, too. He didn’t say anything. He just held his best friend in his arms. 

  
Harry couldn’t believe he had been so stupid.


	23. say something

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i don't think i've ever cried as much at my own writing as i did when writing this chapter... nothing like a bit of self-proclaimed misery!

Ron had promised Harry, crossing his heart as he did so, that he wouldn’t mention anything to anyone about his discovery, and he’d also agreed not to ask Harry questions. He knew that it was over now, and that was all he needed to know. The problem: Harry hadn’t actually told Draco that he was ending it. They’d stopped talking so many times, they’d had so many arguments, but he couldn’t bring himself to say that it was over for good. Even if he knew it was for the best, not just best for his own mental health but also for Draco. More and more people were finding out, and if they carried on seeing each other, it was only a matter of time before the relationship got back to Draco’s parents. 

OWLs were coming up, and what with all the extra time spent meeting with Dumbledore’s Army, Harry hadn’t got a lot of revision done. Avoiding Draco was in a way helping him, he was miserable and riddled with guilt but in hopes of avoiding bumping into the other boy, Harry had taken to spending as much time as he could hidden behind a stack of books at the back of the library, trying to cram as much information into his head as possible. Or at least, it  _ was  _ successful in doing that, until one day his studying was interrupted. He sensed Draco before he saw him, he could always tell when it was Draco standing behind him, if not because of the scent of his aftershave, because of how close he got. Nobody else ever got that close. 

 

“Harry.” He said. His voice sounded different - it sounded strained and pained and all together miserable, it felt like a blade straight through Harry’s chest. At first, Harry didn’t look, just kept his eyes focused on the words of his books, but then Draco gripped onto Harry’s shoulder and he had no choice but to acknowledge the Slytherin boy. 

Turning to face him, Harry sighed. “Draco.” he greeted. 

There was an awkward pause in which both of them waited for the other to speak, Draco looked as if he was struggling to hold himself together. He looked confused and hurt. 

“Why didn’t you come last night?” he said at last. 

 

He’d slid a note onto Harry’s desk at the end of Charms, telling him to meet him on the Astronomy Tower that night. Whenever they went  _ there _ , it was always special - usually moonlit picnics beneath the starry sky. Harry imagined how Draco would have looked, all the food laid out as he waited and waited, the hopefulness in his eyes quickly turning to nothing but sadness and disappointment. Harry didn’t know what to say. He considered whether he should tell Draco why they had to stop seeing each other - Ron, Luna,  _ Snape _ ! They all knew. If Draco found out, he’d just freak out. Surely there was no reason for Harry to tell him that, to burden him with the unnecessary stress? He wanted his mistakes to cause the other boy as little pain as possible. He knew what he had to do. To make it easier for Draco, Harry would have to hurt him. It would be less pain if he did it swiftly, rather than over time. 

 

Taking a deep breath as if to prepare himself, Harry closed his eyes for a moment too long, hesitating ever so slightly before he looked into Draco's eyes. Those beautiful eyes… 

“I don’t think we should be seeing each other.” He said simply. Coldly. 

 

A storm of emotions passed across Draco’s face, it seemed almost impossible how much his eyes changed in just a second. Confusion, miserable understanding, completely lost, and then a cool rage. Clearly fighting to keep his volume level, Draco said, “What do you mean?”

 

“I mean exactly that.” Harry said simply, and then he turned back around, his back to Draco. He couldn’t stand looking at him as he broke his heart. “I don’t think we should see each other.”

He had been really,  _ really  _ hoping that those words alone would be enough to make Draco hate him and leave. Did Draco not  _ see  _ how this was breaking him? He felt as if he was shattering into thousands, a million little pieces. Instead, though, the other boy moved around and sat down at the chair on the other side of the table. Harry couldn’t bear it, he couldn’t bear being this close and not touching him, he couldn’t bear the thought of looking at his face. The longer Draco stayed, the more Harry felt as if he was barely holding together and he would soon fall apart completely, cry a river and not even stop then, cry an entire ocean. 

 

“You can’t do that.” Draco said, his whisper turning to a hiss. “Harry, you can’t just  _ end  _ it, that’s not fair!”

 

“Well, I am.” Harry said flatly, praying that his voice didn’t crack and give him away. 

 

“We have to talk about this, Harry. After everything, you can’t just-” he broke off, shaking his head as he looked around the room, anyone could have been listening in to their conversation. He lowered his voice even more, “I gave you  _ everything _ , Harry, and now you just want to end it in two seconds flat?” 

 

Harry said nothing. He heard how frantic Draco sounded. He knew how much it was crushing him. He just had to keep reminding himself that he was doing it all for Draco’s own good. The secrets were too much, they would all get out, and they would probably hurt Draco the most. More than this would hurt him. He told himself this again and again and again. 

“We  _ have  _ to talk about it, we-” Draco broke off again, and his eyes widened when he looked over towards some bookshelves - Ron had just rounded a corner, but seeing the pair of them together he stopped, busying himself by picking up a book he definitely had no interest in and beginning to flick through it. 

 

“Meet me tonight, midnight, in the Room of Requirement.” Draco said, so firmly that Harry knew he had to go. He’d end it then. 

He watched as the other boy got to his feet and stalked out of the room, his fists clenched - he was furious. That was Draco, though, masking his sadness with anger, never wanting anybody to see him hurting. As he passed Ron, his shoulder slammed into him, and Harry got the feeling it wasn’t accidentally on purpose. 

 

Ron glared after Draco and rubbed his arm, before seating himself in the seat where Draco had just been. “What was that about?” he asked uncertainly, he sounded like he thought he was breaking the rules by asking. 

Harry wasn’t looking at Ron, he was staring longingly after Draco and trying really hard not to notice the tears threatening to slide down his face. 

 

“Nothing.” he said. 

 

***********

 

It was five minutes until midnight and Harry was still on the opposite side of the castle to the Room of Requirement. His heart was racing. He was shaking. He hadn’t been able to eat dinner. It was late, not that he would have slept anyway, but he felt sleepiness beginning to settle in. Everybody else had gone to bed but Harry, he was pacing through the hallways of the castle. He would go to see Draco, it was the right thing to do. He was just dreading it so much - dreading having to have a conversation with Draco about it. Dreading have to finalise that they were breaking up. He wanted Draco to hate him, he would deserve it. 

 

Two minutes. He was walking slowly, acting like he wasn’t but he knew he was headed on a path that would take him straight there. If he pretended like he wasn’t, he hoped that maybe it wouldn’t cause quite so much anxiety. It didn’t really work like that, though. He was terrified. He hadn’t told Ron where he was going, and he wondered if maybe Ron suspected that Harry had lied about ending things. Truth be told, however, Harry got the feeling Ron didn’t care if he ended it. He didn’t like Draco one bit but if Harry wanted to be with him, Ron would accept that. He felt guilty for even thinking his best friend would act any different. 

Eventually, Harry reached the hallway. He didn’t want to go in. He was about five minutes late so he assumed Draco would already be in there. At first, he continued to pace, not thinking about what room he wanted to appear, so the door never showed. It was getting later and later, though, and he didn’t want Draco to think he had been stood up  _ again _ . 

 

_ I need mine and Draco’s room _ … he asked the castle. It never needed to be asked more than once for this room, and the door materialised instantly. 

Taking a deep breath, Harry tried to keep himself composed as he pushed the door open. Through the crack in the door, he could see Draco. He had his back to the door, and he was sat with his knees pulled up to his chest, face tilted up at the window. The moon shone down, making his hair look silvery in the nightlight. The room was pretty much empty - no bed and candles, no loveseat. 

He hadn’t noticed Harry come in, so he had to clear his throat to announce his arrival. Draco got to his feet in an instant, turning to look at Harry. His eyes were red as if he had been crying and his usually pale face was pink too, but now he just looked cold and cool - no more tears. 

 

“I wasn’t sure if you would come.” he said. 

“Well, you’re right.” Harry said with a shrug, trying not to let it show just how much this was affecting him. Just how much it hurt him to stand and talk to Draco so distantly, as if he didn’t care at all. He couldn’t give himself away… “We have to at least talk about this.”

“Alright. So talk.” Draco said. 

Although he knew he deserved it, Harry couldn’t help but internally wince a little at the brutal harshness to Draco’s sharp words. He was looking at Harry like he was a business associate who he really didn’t want to be having a meeting with, but alas, there they were. Hesitant, Harry wrung his hands, and he bowed his head. 

“I’m sorry.” he said, unsure on anything else he could possibly say. He didn’t know how to  _ explain _ , he didn’t want to speak the words. He just wished that they could agree to stop seeing each other and part ways with no hard feelings, no sadness, no pain. But of course, that was impossible. 

They’d argued and broken up if you could call it that many times before - but this had to be final. 

 

“Sorry for what?” Draco asked. Harry was silent, his gaze still on the floor, and the air suddenly started to simmer with boiling frustration. “ _ Look  _ at me, at least.” 

He looked. It burned his eyes. He felt like he was gazing right into the light of a shining golden sun, beautiful and pure and all he wanted - but too much sun killed the flowers that bloomed. He needed the rain. For their own good, they needed the rain. 

“You know what I’m sorry for.” Harry said, “I’m sorry that- that I’m acting like this.”

“Save the fucking apologies, they shouldn’t be necessary.” Draco snapped, and he rarely swore so angrily in such a muggle manner. It was little things like that that showed how Harry rubbed off on him, and usually realisations like that would make his heart dance but now he just felt filled with dread. Dread and  _ grief _ , he was killing something so potentially beautiful. 

“Then what else do you want me to say?” he asked, and his voice was croaking, his throat was dry and so raw that it ached to get any words out. He  _ couldn’t  _ let himself cry. He had to be firm. He had to be as cruel as he could be. 

 

_ If I end it,  _ Harry had to keep reminding himself,  _ nobody will find out. Draco’s parents won’t find out _ … 

 

“I want you to  _ explain _ !” Draco retorted, exasperated. “ _ Why  _ are you being like this? And it can’t be just because of Pansy because-”

“It’s not about Pansy.” Harry said, only half a lie. “We just- we don’t work.”

 

That hadn’t been what Draco had been expecting. He looked as if he had been slapped, his eyes widened for just a moment, but then they narrowed again, more anger. “And why’s that?”

“It’s too hard. I can’t handle it anymore, it’s too risky and-” he hesitated. He didn’t want to say it. He  _ couldn’t  _ say it… “And I don’t think you’re worth the risk.” 

He said it. 

He hadn’t been at all sure on how he thought Draco would react to that, but he didn’t expect him to  _ laugh _ . It was a laugh of disbelief, and he looked like he was fighting sobs, but still - laughing. Manic laughing that made Harry feel a little uneasy. 

“ _ I’m  _ not worth the risk?” He said, and then he started shaking his head, and the laughing ceased. Harry missed the laughing. “I’m putting so much more at risk! My parents would kill me, they’d torture me for the world to see, and then kill me. But- but I thought... “ 

He broke off. Then he broke down. He was on his knees, and he was in tears. Tears like Harry had never seen before, especially not what he expected from the outwardly cold and arrogant Draco Malfoy. Harry couldn’t believe that he had ever doubted Draco’s feelings for him because he was suddenly broken - Harry had broken him in just a few words. 

Still, Harry had to end it. He didn’t trust Snape, not enough. It was too dangerous, the secrets. It was the right thing to do in the long run. He wanted to pull Draco into him and wrap in his warmth, he wanted to hold him tight all through the night and stroke his hand through his hair because that always soothed the Slytherin boy. He wanted to kiss him all over and he wanted to tell him he loved him until the sun came up, and then to dusk and through to every single dawn of every single day. But instead, he stood by and watched him crumble.

 

“I need you.” Draco whispered. Croaked. He sounded exhausted and lost, and he kept saying again and again that he needed Harry. Eventually, it got too much. Harry  _ had  _ to stop the crying, he couldn’t leave it like this. They had to at least end it properly. He wished he could just tell him the truth, that Snape had found out about them along with Ron and Luna. 

 

But if Draco knew others had found out that he was gay… he’d act even worse than this. They hadn’t discussed it as much but Harry knew Draco hated himself for being gay. He thought it made him an embarrassment. 

Swallowing the poisonous and toxic taste in his mouth, Harry obliged Draco’s need, at least once more he would, but when he crouched down on the floor beside Draco, the other boy moved away. 

 

“Don’t.” he said, sad and pleading yet still so commanding. Harry’s eyes widened. He just wanted to hold him one more time, to say sorry without the words. But he couldn’t. “Don’t do that if you’ll just leave anyway.”

 

“But-”

“Go.”

So Harry went. He walked away from the room that held so many memories - the place he had had his first time, the place that Draco had shown him, the place they spent so many nights together. With his back to Draco, he finally allowed himself to cry. Silent crying, tears trailed down his cheeks and he felt like they would never stop, the only thing that would make it better was Draco - and he had just made that impossible. 

 

*************

 

He didn’t know if Ron had followed him or if he had been out looking, but the pair of them came across each other down one of the hallways, both silently tiptoeing through the castle and privately hoping Filch didn’t find them. 

“Harry?” Ron asked, pausing and giving his best friend a once over. He saw his red eyes and tear streaked face and frowned, “What’s the matter?”

That question was what broke Harry completely, he could no longer keep his tears quiet. He sobbed. A loud, screeching sob that could have woken anybody up. Ron sighed a pitying sigh and rushed closer, and he grabbed onto Harry and it was a good thing too, because if it weren’t for his hold Harry probably would have fallen straight to his knees. Checking it was empty first, Ron dragged Harry into the nearest classroom he could, muttering under his breath a spell that would make them inaudible from outside. 

Harry leaned back against a desk, using it to steady himself. It felt as if the realisation had just kicked in again, at full power, he wished he could claw through the skin of his chest and tear his heart straight through it before tossing it as far as it would go. 

 

“Harry, what’s happened?” Ron asked again, but Harry couldn’t hear him over his wild and ragged breaths. He shook his head, thinking over everything he had said. He had been so  _ cruel _ … 

“ _ Harry!” _ the other boy said, and then he tightened his grip on Harry, pinching his shoulders and shaking out of his daze. 

It worked in a way, Harry looked at Ron as if he had just realised he was there, but that just made him cry harder. 

“Ron-” he tried to say, but then he got choked up and nothing would come out. He almost fell, so Ron steadied him. He didn’t say anything more, but he pulled the dark-haired boy close and squeezed him into as tight a hug as he could manage. Harry pressed his forehead into Ron’s shoulder, he couldn’t stop the hiccoughing cries. They fell from him as his heart and his weight did, he felt empty but then again he also felt so heavy, like he was being weighed down by a ton of dreadful bricks.

“I- I ended it, for- for g-good,” he managed to say, though it was barely clear enough to make out the words, Ron got the picture. 

He stayed quiet, knowing that Harry didn’t feel fully comfortable talking about everything and all he needed was somebody to lean on. And he did need it. Harry felt like such an idiot, if he had Ron for everything, for all the months with Draco when they would fight and not talk and Harry felt lonelier than ever; he could have turned to his best friend. But he didn’t. Stupid stupid stupid. The soothing circles that Ron’s hand smoothed over Harry’s back managed to ease the younger boy’s breaths, slowly but surely they grew more controlled. Eventually, he couldn’t cry anymore. He didn’t know how long he had been sobbing over Ron for but he was pretty sure in just a couple of hours the sun would be bright in the sky and the entire awful night would be over. 

Straightening up, Harry released Ron from his desperate grip and the two of them sat side by side. 

 

“I’m sorry for keeping everything a secret.” Harry said at last, voice small. “I wish that I had told you, it’s just-”

 

“Mate, you don’t have to explain.” Ron said, “I get it. I mean-”

“Yeah,” Harry cut him off, “It’s just- I’ve been such a shit friend, Ron. For so long now.”

“I understand. But now you know that…” he hesitated, and Harry smiled a little. Ron was always scared of sounding too affectionate. “You know that I’m here for you. You don’t have to tell me things like- like being gay, if you don’t want to. But no matter what, you’re my best mate, Harry. You always will be.”

Harry felt like crying all over again, he probably would have if he hadn’t already let everything go with his endless tsunami of tears earlier. Instead, he just gave Ron a watery eyed smile. 

“Thanks, Ron.” he said softly. “It’s not that I thought you’d be weird about me being gay. It’s that it’s Draco Malfoy.” 

Ron grinned, “Well, I don’t know how I feel about your  _ choice  _ in guys. But- well. Don’t feel bad about it.”

“About what?”

“About liking Draco. You can’t help who you want to be with.”

Harry frowned. Talking with Ron had almost made him forget the most heartbreaking thing he had ever done just a little while ago. How broken Draco had looked. Harry knew the true Draco more than anybody could ever know. He didn’t just like him, he was in love with him. Closing his eyes in a desperate attempt to hold himself together, he said, “I can help it. I’ve ended properly, I told him-”

“You ended it?” Ron echoed, furrowing his brow. “But-”

“It’s too dangerous. Anyone could find out. His parents- they would disown him if they didn’t kill him themselves.”

“For what? For being  _ gay _ ?” Ron said in disgust. To Harry’s answering nod, he actually clenched his fists in anger. Harry didn’t ever expect him to look like that in protection of Draco, but he still felt glad. He couldn’t believe he had ever doubted Ron. “The Malfoy’s really are pure scum.” 

“I know.” Harry said softly. “And that’s why I ended it. I can’t be the reason that that happens.”

 

Ron got to his feet and turned to face Harry properly. “Harry, I get that, but- they’ll find out eventually. He won’t just live forever in the closet, and he’s probably more upset without you-”

“I know.” Harry said. “But I’m not just a boy. I’m- I’m  _ me _ . Enemy to all Death Eaters.”

It looked as if Ron wanted to say more, argue that Harry shouldn’t have ended it, but then he looked at his best friend. He saw how miserable he was, how guilty he was. And Ron, the best friend Harry could have ever hoped for, dropped the subject. He smiled, and Harry felt almost disgusted at himself for how much that surprised him. He had underestimated Ron completely, naively thinking that the truth would make him think of Harry as scum. 

 

“Shall we try for at least an hour of sleep before Transfiguration?” he asked. 

 

Harry laughed despite himself, and he heard how exhausted he felt. He didn’t realise how long he had been crying for, and Ron had stayed with him - probably the first time he had gone a night without sleeping a wink. 

“Sounds good.” 

 

******************

 

The second Occlumency lesson with Snape was incredibly awkward. Harry had never thought that he would miss the Potions Master taunting him with cruel, malicious words and doing as much as he could to humiliate him. Every time Snape tried to get into Harry’s head, the young boy didn’t try and keep him out by using occlumency, he would just flinch and practically jump out of sight. If he wasn’t so nervous of Snape seeing what was in his head, it would have looked comical, but he was more on edge than ever. He couldn’t stand the way the older man had his black, beady eyes piercing through him, seeing what other deep, dark secrets he could dig out. It felt as if his stare was accusing him of something. Harry wondered if maybe he was holding back on the taunts because he was using up all of his hatred for Harry on spilling the truth to Draco’s dad, dropping him into a pit with death pooled at the bottom. 

Eventually, tiptoeing around everything got too much. Although he knew it would probably be a wasted attempt, and he would just feel embarrassed and make the situation even more uncomfortable which seemed impossible; he had to at least try. 

“Please don’t tell the Malfoy’s.” He said into an awkward silence having just gotten back to his feet after dodging Snape’s wand. 

 

Looking frustrated, Snape just snapped, “You’ll never learn to keep The Dark Lord out if you keep cowering at the sight of my wand.” It was as if he hadn’t heard Harry speak at all. 

 

“Snape-” Harry started, freezing when he saw Snape’s eyes glint like they did whenever Harry did anything wrong, “I mean, Professor  _ please _ . I’ve ended everything with Draco and I’ll never see him again, just- please  _ please  _ don’t tell them. Not for me, for  _ Draco _ .”

 

He didn’t really know what reaction he had been expecting, but he hadn’t been expecting Snape to look  _ sad _ . It was only for a sliver of a second, but his eyes filled with gloom instead of their usual blackness. “You did?” he asked. 

Confused and uncertain, Harry nodded his head.

“Why did you do that, Potter?” he asked, and it was probably the first time the professor had asked Harry something with genuine interest. 

Even more taken aback, Harry shook his head, “I just- I know if his parents found out he would be in trouble so I-”

Snape looked angry. Harry thought he must have imagined it but he actually looked  _ annoyed _ at Harry for this. Seeming to realise that his face was giving away more emotion in a couple of minutes than it ever had throughout five years, Snape turned away, looking out of a window. 

 

“That was foolish.” he said. 

 

“What?” Harry asked, he frowned. He wasn’t really sure if he was hearing right. 

“I said it was foolish.” Snape said, confirming that what Harry had originally heard had been true to his ears. “It’s foolish to deny yourself love when you don’t ever know when you’ll lose it.” 

Almost certain that he had to be imagining the entire thing, Harry convinced himself that he was dreaming and decided not to question it. Instead, he said, “Have you lost it, then?”

 

And the moment in which Snape almost proved he was human and not made of stone, he turned around and he looked  _ furious _ . He glared at Harry, as if he was blaming him for something. “Enough with this chitchat, Potter.” He said coldly, “You either learn, or you go and talk about your pathetic love life to somebody because quite frankly, I have more important things to worry about. Such as, teaching you to defend your mind. If you don’t want the Malfoy’s finding out about your little affairs, you don’t talk to  _ me _ . You learn. You keep The Dark Lord out of your head, because you never know when he’s rooting around. And if he finds out about your sad romance, you’ll be in real danger.”

 

Bewildered by such a rapid change of emotions, Harry found himself speechless, shaking his head in his confusion. “But-

 

“Go.” Snape said. “And tomorrow, you come back with your mind clear of emotion, clear of  _ weakness _ , and you learn.”

 

“So you won’t tell-”

 

“Get out of here, Potter.” he said, sounding bored as he already moved onto looking at some potions he was brewing as if Harry wasn’t even there. 

 

At the last minute though, maybe he took pity, he eased Harry’s fears slightly. “No, I won’t tell. I’m not interested in a dewy-eyed teenage daydream.” 

 

“Thank you, professor.” Harry said. 

 

“Don’t forget your potions homework is due tomorrow, Potter.” 

 

The moment Harry got out of the dungeon he felt like he was breathing completely fresh air. He was just basking in the relief of escape and also thoughts of who Snape could have loved before (and who on earth would love  _ him _ ) so much so that he wasn’t even looking where he was going. On his way to see Snape, he had been so on edge being so close to Slytherin quarters but when he had completely forgotten, he almost walked straight into Draco. They hadn’t seen each other since Harry had ended things a few days ago. Not even in class - whenever Harry decided to show up instead of wallowing in self pity in his bed, Draco was absent. And now he was here. It was hard to believe that he had ever been curled up on the floor in a sobbing heap saying that he needed Harry, because suddenly he was looking at him like he didn’t know him. He wasn’t even going back to his bullying self from before. He just stared as if he was something foreign, maybe a little interesting, but not worth a lot of time. It looked as if he felt nothing, but for Harry, time slowed. The tables had turned - he had been the one acting like he didn’t care about Draco and now he was getting what he deserved. Opening and closing his mouth a few times, Harry wondered if he should say something, but thoughts weren’t responding, they were there but he couldn’t quite puzzle through them to form words. 

As he finally managed to remember how to speak though, he started to speak, thinking maybe they could at least be civil with each other - but by then, Draco was already off around the corner, without a word. 

_ It’s foolish to deny yourself love when you don’t ever know when you’ll lose it.  _ The words played on an endless loop round and round Harry’s head.

He’d brought it all on himself. A loveless life was what he deserved. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading! :D


	24. caught out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry it's taken so long, revision is very stressful!

Weeks passed. Exams were growing closer and closer which meant Harry was getting more and more stressed, yet he found himself completely unable to focus on any work, he couldn’t revise or pay attention in lessons. All he had to motivate him to actually do  _ something  _ was the DA, and even that was starting to feel less like something he wanted to do. Umbridge had been getting more strict about there being no organisations that she didn’t know about and permit - he was starting to feel nervous. As well as the DA there were his lessons with Snape, but they weren’t going to well. He was still not keen on letting Snape in, and the one time he had managed to do something successful to fight him off, he had almost dug into Snape’s mind - this had enraged the Potion’s Master and he hadn’t arranged another lesson since. 

To make matters worse, Harry was seeing Draco everywhere. He had two weeks of being completely on the downlow, but when the Slytherin boy returned to showing up at meals and to lessons, he just seemed so… normal. Of course, Harry was glad that Draco hadn’t slipped into complete and utter misery because of him but it was almost as if he didn’t care at all. When he looked at Harry it was either with disinterest or as if he was looking straight through him. One thing that Harry  _ did  _ notice, though, was in Transfiguration one day, Pansy seemed to be sliding her hand up his leg under the table. Watching it happen had made Harry tense up like a rock, and he had to dig his nails into his palms when he clenched his fists to stop himself from completely losing his senses and jumping on the pair of them. It just made him feel worse, because he had no right to expect anything different. Still, Draco pushed her touch away and spent the rest of the lesson as far away from her as possible without falling off of his chair. Harry couldn’t help but smirk. 

 

“Harry,” Hermione asked one day when they were sat in the common room, even though the sun was shining outside, “The first exam is in just under two weeks. Have you done  _ any  _ revision?” 

Reluctantly breaking away from his gaze that had been fixated on the view outside with a hopeless longing, Harry shook his head. “No.” 

 

“But-” she tried to argue, exasperated, but then just slumped her shoulders. She had tried countless times to encourage him to do it, but he never did. He felt bad, he wished he could tell her the truth as well, it felt like he was being unfair only being truthful with Ron, but… Draco was awful to Hermione. She’d probably be a lot less understanding. 

“I’ll do it.” Harry said in an attempt to reassure her, but he had made that same empty promise twice every day for the past couple of weeks. 

She clearly didn’t trust that though, because she then decided she was making him and Ron revision timetables that they had to stick to, and she would be there to make sure they did everything. As she walked off, frustrated at his complete lack of interest in academics, Harry couldn’t help but love her a little bit more. Without her, he’d probably have dropped out of Hogwarts. Seeing Draco was really that bad - it was torture. 

 

“Alright, Harry?” Ron asked, he had just come from the dormitory after having a nap and his hair was rumpled. “Want to go and practice Quidditch?” 

 

Harry knew he should. He had barely done any preparation for a game which would be held the next morning, always making up excuses to the team, knowing he was letting them all down and they were all getting fed up; but he just didn’t have the mention. He started to say yes, but then he got up from his seat and wandered over to the window. It was a beautiful day outside, the Hogwarts grounds looking even more stunning than usual, but… out on the pitch were the unmistakable emerald robes of the Slytherin’s. Yes, to make matters worse, the match was against Draco. Harry had already made a backup plan, he would take some of Fred and George’s puking pastilles and get so sick that the match got cancelled. 

 

“Maybe not, mate.” he said, turning back to Ron. 

Ron had been very understanding, and he hadn’t pushed anything, they’d barely even discussed any of the conversation they had had that night after Harry had last met Draco; but he looked fed up. Harry was taken aback as Ron’s features sharpened. “Seriously?”

“What?” Harry echoed, defensive. “I’ve- I’ve got revision.”

“You’ve got weeks to revise!” Ron retorted, “The match is tomorrow morning Harry, and the team are getting fed up-”

“Well,  _ I’m  _ fed up!” 

“Fed up with what? Because you’re not just letting yourself down, you’re letting everybody else down just because you’re letting  _ him _ get to you, you’re hiding yourself away and you’re not like yourself-”

“Don’t talk about it so loudly!” Harry hissed, despite the common room being pretty much empty apart from a couple of second years sat on the complete opposite of the room. He knew Ron was right though. He had no reason to be fed up, everyone was tiptoeing around him and he just let them all down. He was an empty shell. But… he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t go out there and practice on the same field as Draco. He couldn’t handle it. 

Ron lowered his voice, “It’s either face it now, or tomorrow at the game, you’ll be playing against him and you’ll be so nervous that you’ll screw it up for everybody else!”

Although his first instinct was to be annoyed, Harry knew that Ron’s outburst was well deserved. It had been two weeks of uncertainty and timid comfort, Ron hadn’t been acting like himself either. It made sense, to get it over and done with but- he still had his option of bailing out the game. Surely there was a replacement for him? He tried to think of another excuse, but just as he went to speak, Hermione reappeared with a stack of books and highlighters. 

 

“Ron!” she said accusingly, “You told me you were  _ revising,  _ not  _ sleeping _ !” 

“I was revising!” Ron lied sheepishly. 

Hermione didn’t have to say anything, just looked at his bedhead hair before rolling her eyes in a very exaggerated fashion. Then she turned to Harry, jabbing a finger at him. “You, me, Transfiguration, right now.”

Harry started to protest, but Hermione talked over him. “You’re helping me pass Defence, as well as the whole year pretty much, so I’m helping you with this whether you like it or not!”

The huge pile of books looked intimidating even to Harry, in a more daunting way than thoughts of Voldemort did. But then again, it was the perfect excuse to get out of having to go down with Ron. He really didn’t want to bump into Draco on his broomstick - he’d probably tumble straight down to the ground and land in a heap of his own bones. 

“Sorry.” he said to Ron, trying for a smile. 

Rolling his eyes, Ron turned around and stalked off without another word. Harry understood his anger, he couldn’t imagine how frustrating it must have been, especially given that the match the next day would determine if they got through to the final match of the season. He felt terrible, but those days, letting people down just seemed so natural for Harry that he didn’t even think there was anything he could do to stop it. 

 

****************

 

After some very intense hours of revision, Harry was making his way to the DA, hoping to get there early so he could set up some things. He was doing revision lessons of his own, going over everything that they had learnt. As he walked, he yawned, tired. He also felt a gnawing ache in his stomach in the way it did when he felt like something bad was about to happen. Although, he didn’t know if he would call it  _ bad _ , just extremely unfortunate. Up ahead, Draco had rounded a corner. Harry braced himself for the usual invisibility he seemed to gain whenever his ex boyfriend was around, but then he widened his eyes when he realised Draco was coming straight towards him. It looked like he was looking for him, which was definitely a foreign thing to Harry as of late. 

They met each other halfway. Harry was shocked, he’d been wanting to speak to Draco since everything had happened, but he’d never been able to before given how Draco was ignoring him. But now they were staring right into each other’s faces and he felt the words clog up his throat. Instead, all he wanted was to say sorry by pulling Draco close and kissing him and never stopping. He had never regretted something so much, and he was suddenly starting to get overwhelmed by lust and desire and  _ love _ . He didn’t even want just sex and passion, he wanted to talk and he wanted to stroke Draco’s cheek with the back of his hand and he wanted to study him all over, never stopping until the world ended because he just got more and more beautiful every day. With his mouth hanging open dumbly, Harry started to speak but he didn’t even think he formed words, just a sound that was broke off instantly by Draco speaking too. 

 

“Harry, there’s something I need to tell-” he stopped, and then his cheeks flamed up. Embarrassed Draco was something Harry had actually  _ missed  _ seeing, he’d thought he had just superglued on the arrogant mask forever, but now they were talking to each other! He could just jump for joy. He wanted to say sorry, promise to never treat Draco like that again, scream from the rooftops so the whole world would know how sorry he was if that was what Draco wanted. But then… 

He fell back down to earth. He had sworn not to do that. He didn’t care about Snape’s unexpected (and weird) advice, he didn’t care that he loved Draco. He loved him so much… bt it would just be the same all over again. They wouldn’t ever be able to be properly together, and the danger of it all, the  _ risk.  _ It was too much. 

 

“You go.” Harry said, swallowing down whatever had been threatening to spill off of his tongue. 

For a moment, he waited. Draco, however, had lost any sign of eagerness to share information. Instead, he slumped his shoulders and shook his head. He looked disappointed, and suddenly Harry regretted keeping his mouth shut. He had had the perfect chance for conversation and he had blown it. 

“What was it you wanted to tell me?” he asked hopefully, but it was clear Draco no longer had any intention on conversing. 

If Harry hadn’t been an idiot, he would have taken notice of the fact that Draco had seemed desperate and aware and like something incredibly bad had been about to happen, but all he could think about was blaming himself for blowing his chances yet again. 

 

“Nothing.” Draco said flatly. No emotion. His eyes were completely blank as he stared at Harry. It was horrible - knowing that Draco hated Harry and it was all Harry’s fault even though he had done what he did for the benefit of the other boy. There was no denying how his heart ached, though. No denying how every part of his insides felt like they were being twisted around and around. Draco continued walking down the hallway and it was like he had never stopped to talk to Harry at all. 

 

***************

 

Harry was trying especially hard to hold himself together as he neared the room of requirement. He was running a little late so he wouldn’t be on his own, the whole group would probably be waiting for him and it wouldn’t do good for him to go into the DA shaky legged and close to tears. He was taking deep breaths, in and out, when he pushed the door open. 

And immediately wished he hadn’t. 

 

Everybody was there, that was for sure, but they weren’t alone. Hermione and Ron stood at the front of the group and behind them, gripping onto their shoulders with a lot more force than necessary, was Umbridge. Her pudgy face was red and livid, her eyes even crazed with rage, yet in her more than mad way she still managed to have a sickening smile on her face. It wasn’t just her - the ridiculous ‘Inquisitorial Squad’ she had set up was there too - a gang of Slytherin’s helping her with all of her cruel tasks throughout the school. 

 

“Potter.” she greeted him, her voice sweet and toxic all at once. “We were wondering when you would arrive.”

 

Harry felt his own face pale. They’d been caught breaking school rules. He had gotten himself into trouble but worse than that, he had gotten everybody else into trouble too. He didn’t even bother trying to explain himself, just gulped down his fear and his guilt. To make matters even worse, the Slytherin who grabbed hold of him was  _ Pansy _ . Her slimy hands held him and her taunting laughter rang through his ears. Then the lot of them were marched to Dumbledore’s office, nobody saying a single word. 

Harry realised what Draco had been planning on warning about - and yet he hadn’t. Not that Harry blamed him, but that didn’t mean he didn’t feel betrayed. When they reached the spiral staircase, the thudding of Harry’s heart grew harder and harder, each beat felt like a rough punch to the chest. He could only imagine how very disappointed the headmaster would look - if there was one thing Harry hated seeing in the blue eyes of Dumbledore, it was disappointment. He had let Dumbledore down, he knew it. 

 

They were all taken up the stairs, it was a massive squeeze with as many of them as there were. When they reached the top, stumbling into Dumbledore’s office in at attempt to wriggle out of Pansy’s grip (it failed), the headmaster was sat at his desk. He looked surprised for a moment, but then regarded Harry and his friends with mild interest. When he looked at Umbridge, he smiled politely, actually  _ smiled _ . 

 

“Good evening Dolores.” he said pleasantly, placing his fingers together beneath his bearded chin. “May I ask the meaning of this intrusion?” 

 

“Intrusion!” The toad-faced woman echoed in shrill disbelief, Harry could tell her skin had turned a raging red without even having to look around at her. She stormed towards the desk, right up to Dumbledore. Then she pointed an accusing finger at him with the sharpness of a blade. “ _ You! _ ” she snapped. “I told Cornelius you were plotting against the Ministry, and he’s on his way  _ right now _ !”

 

Harry felt sick. He had gotten Dumbledore into so much trouble! He looked around desperately at all of the DA, they all stared back at him in frightened terror. Other than Hermione, who just looked completely enraged. She was being held tightly by Crabbe and Goyle, they were holding her back and it seemed as if they were struggling to do so. Draco was nowhere to be seen. 

 

“It wasn’t Professor Dumbledore!” Hermione insisted, her loud voice carrying despite Crabbe and Goyle telling her to shut up. “It was all my idea, and we were just trying to pass our examinations!” 

 

“Oh hush, you silly girl!” Umbridge hissed, turning back round to face the students. Then she lifted up the crumpled piece of paper that they had all signed way back when the group first started. “ _ Dumbledore’s Army _ !” 

 

Hermione started to argue, but Dumbledore spoke over her. “Quite right, Dolores. I did go against the rules of the ministry, only to protect my students from dangers. Mr Potter, Mr Weasley and Miss Granger were simply following my orders. They should not be punished.”

 

“They will be punished, believe you me!” Umbridge continued in her spluttering rage, she was practically spitting. Harry, seeing that Dumbledore was getting himself in trouble to protect him, started to speak, but Pansy roughly dug her nails into his arms and he stayed quiet. 

 

Just then, the fireplace erupted into flames and from the fires stepped Cornelius Fudge, Kingsley Shacklebolt, and  _ Percy Weasley _ . There were also a couple of men who looked like guards, nameless and silent in the shadows. Harry didn’t have to see Ron’s face to know he looked absolutely mad, he hadn’t seen his betraying brother in months. 

“What is the meaning of this?” The minister said, regarding the students as if they were mere pieces of dirt, no hello or greeting. “Weatherby, take notes.”

 

Ron snorted, clearly the minister  _ still  _ hadn’t learnt Percy’s name, but he shut up when the minister looked right at him. 

 

“Minister, I was right all along. Dumbledore has been plotting against the ministry.  _ Look _ !”

 

He snatched the parchment from her pudgy fingers, reading the names. He saw Harry’s right at the top and turned to look at the Gryffindor boy, the ring leader of Dumbledore’s Army. “What’s this, boy? Another one of you foolish attempts to trick your peers into thinking The Dark Lord is back!?”

 

“He  _ is  _ back!” Harry said furiously, the word like toxic venom. 

 

“As I’ve said, Cornelius,” Dumbledore said, and he smiled like he was speaking to an old friend, but the dislike in his icy blue eyes was very clear as he rose to his feet. “This was all my doing. I was merely attempting to help my students to pass their Defence Against The Dark Arts Ordinary Wizarding Levels, given your new rules being very… disabling.” 

 

Harry couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Dumbledore could get locked up, all because he was trying to protect Harry and his foolish actions. “He’s lying, minister, it was-”

 

“I appreciate it Harry, but I can take care of myself.” Dumbledore said, and he was still smiling, but there was a clear warning to his words that Harry had to go along with his story. Harry bit his tongue and nodded glumly, staring down at the floor. 

 

“Explain, Albus.” Fudge said, and behind him Percy stood with his quill poised in his hand. Kingsley remained quiet, watching Dumbledore with secretly anxious eyes. All of the students were silent - Harry couldn’t believe he had put everybody at risk. He wondered if Fred and George were struggling not to leap and attack their older brother. 

 

Dumbledore said simply, “I was merely aspiring to encourage the students to learn as much as they could. Your new rules stopped them from practicing their spells, and that really wouldn’t do. Especially when the powers that be are at large.”

 

“I’ve told you again and again, to stop spewing your  _ lies _ , Dumbledore.  _ He  _ is not back!” Fudge said, voice getting louder and louder. 

Umbridge moved to stand in between Dumbledore and Fudge, staring right at the Minister with imploring eyes. “He lies! This was all his idea of- of building an  _ army _ ! To take you down and take over the ministry!” 

 

Harry was so angry he wanted to shout, but he knew Dumbledore wouldn’t like that. He expected Dumbledore to look irritated, but as usual, he surprised; there was nothing but pure amusement in his faint smile and bright eyes, clearly visible through the glass of his half moon glasses. “Believe what you will, Minister, but I definitely have no interest in taking over the ministry, I find my time is more valuable here, helping young wizards to learn what is  _ right _ .”

 

He seemed to have offended Fudge, for suddenly he was no longer interested in talking things through. With raging flames erupting all across himself, the minister lifted a hand and pointed it at Dumbledore. “Seize him!” he ordered. 

 

The men who stood behind started to move forward as soon as they were ordered, yet they held back when Dumbledore chuckled. He moved to step up on the raised platform behind his desk, the moonlight shining behind him. He looked powerful and great, and when he looked at Harry, he winked, like everything was fine. 

 

“I said  _ seize him _ !” Fudge exploded, his face purpling with anger, suddenly oblivious to the audience of children stood nearby. He turned to Dumbledore, moving closer. “Albus, you will now be escorted back to the ministry, where you will be formally charged before you shall be escorted to Azkaban to await trial!”

Harry’s hands balled up into fists, he wanted to shout that that wasn’t fair. None of this was Dumbledore’s fault, it was all himself, he had made yet another mistake; it seemed that was all he was good at. Sensing that, Kingsley met his eye, and he shook his head, such a small shake that nobody would have noticed if they didn’t know Kingsley was actually on the side of the Order of the Phoenix. 

 

“Ah, yes I thought we might hit that little snag.” Dumbledore said calmly, and then Fawkes the Phoenix flew unseen through the window, hovering nearby. 

 

“Snag? I see no snag, Dumbledore!” Fudge echoed, spitting the words out like they burned. 

 

“Well, I’m afraid I do.” said Dumbledore sagely, and Umbridge started to raise her voice, shouting insults as if she was losing the plot, but Fudge silenced her. 

 

“Oh, really?” he asked the headmaster, face like he had swallowed a particularly sour grape. 

 

“Well - it's just that you seem to be labouring under the delusion that I am going to- what is the phrase? - come quietly.” Dumbledore explained, rather cheerful, given the circumstances. “I am afraid I am not going to come quietly at all, Cornelius. I have absolutely no intention of being sent to Azkaban. I could break out, of course - but what a waste of time, and frankly, I can think of a whole host of things I would rather be doing.”

 

“You-” Fudge started to say, but Dumbledore spoke over him. 

 

“You shall be proven wrong, Cornelius. And until that happens, I wish you luck.” Dumbledore said, clearly not wishing any luck whatsoever. 

 

Harry didn’t quite know what was going to happen next but he knew he was afraid. If Dumbledore was gone, Umbridge would be put in charge, he just knew it. Hogwarts would become like a prison, it’s very own Azkaban. But there was nothing he could do or say. It was over too fast - Fawkes suddenly flew to Dumbledore, right above him. Dumbledore lifted his arms, and he held onto his pet’s tail. In a flash of flaring light, flames encased the headmaster but he didn’t burn or look in pain, just smiled at Harry in a way that promised everything would be okay. 

 

And then he was gone. 

 

“You idiots!” Umbridge screeched at the aurors, and Fudge stomped up to where Dumbledore had just stood. 

“Impossible…” he was muttering, shaking his head in anguish. “Impossible!”

 

Then he turned back to the students, “Be gone, all of you! Be gone!”

 

They didn’t have to be told twice. Everybody, the DA and Inquisitorial Squad alike, fled from the room instantly. Harry lingered, he wanted to plead Dumbledore’s case, explain what had truly happened. But then everything that had just happened would have been for nothing. 

 

“Harry, come on.” Hermione whispered, and she sniffed as if she was about to cry. When Harry didn’t move, she tugged at his sleeve. He allowed her to pull him behind her, and Ron brought up the rear. As they left the office, they heard one of the portraits speak. 

 

“You know, Minister,” it was the unmistakable voice of Phineas Nigellus, “I disagree with Dumbledore on many counts - but you can’t deny he has style!” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading! i hope this chapter was alright :D


	25. unknowing comfort

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter is really short, it's kind of just a filler!

Harry glared at the hideously pink Professor Umbridge. She sat at her desk, smiling sweetly as she watched each and every student who had been a part of the DA, taking sickening pleasure in watching her terrible quills piercing their skin. Harry was pretty sure a vampire would be going crazy if he were in the room,  the amount of bleeding hands… As her evil eyes turned to Harry, he quickly turned his attention back to the parchment in front of him.  _ I must not tell lies _ . 

It was all his fault. Everybody else was in detention with him because he had encouraged them to join him with Dumbledore’s Army, knowing full well how much trouble they would all get into if anybody found out. 

 

The doors to the great hall opened - that’s where detentions were being held for there were too many of them to go in her office. She had tried to get into Dumbledore’s office, assuming herself as headmistress; yet the gargoyles at the bottom of the spiral staircase had sealed themselves against her, to everybody’s amusement. Harry didn’t look to see who it was, but he knew immediately when the new arrival spoke. 

 

“I sent the owl to the minister, Professor.” Draco said. 

 

Harry felt sick. He couldn’t help but look - Draco was on the enemy team. Of course, he’d always been, but now it actually felt  _ real _ . Like Draco was against him. Although Harry knew he had brought it on himself, he still couldn’t quite believe his own ears. Staring in the direction of the Slytherin boy as blankly as he could, the scratching at the back of his hand prickled even more painfully. Crabbe and Goyle stood by him, watching their classmates wincing as they suffered their punishments and sniggering cruelly. 

“I told him about their detentions and being denied of any privileges.” Draco continued, and he briefly met Harry’s gaze with cold greyness. “It’s what they deserve from keeping this army under our noses the whole time.” 

 

Harry felt himself heat up. He didn’t care that he wasn’t allowed to do Quidditch anymore, not really, he hadn’t been going out to the pitch anyway for fear of having to play against his ex. He knew that Draco meant more than what he said - he meant that he was hurt Harry had lied to him, he’d kept it secret for months; even when they agreed never to lie to one another. Of course, he didn’t say that in so many words, but it was true. 

 

“Good boy, Draco.” Umbridge said, and then her eyes swerved to Harry. “Potter, get to it, or your hand will only hurt more.” She snapped. 

 

Harry did get to it. He also found that he didn’t feel as bad for lying to Draco as he should have. Not when Draco could so easily cross to the side of  _ Umbridge  _ \- surely he saw how evil she was? Harry didn’t think he could ever sit by and smirk if he and Draco switched places. Yet somehow, Draco was watching him as the words clawed into his skin like it was a fairly interesting performance. Hogwarts was falling apart, and Malfoy didn’t care one bit. 

  
  


******************

 

Later on that night, much later when the majority of Gryffindor’s had gone up to bed, Harry sat with Ron and Hermione at a desk nearby the fire. They were meant to be revising, but he couldn’t bring himself to concentrate. Much like he couldn’t bring himself to eat, to sleep. He barely even showed up to lessons, and exams were getting nearer and nearer. As if she could read his mind, Hermione placed a gentle hand over his across the table. 

“Harry, it’s no use blaming yourself.” she said gently, “Don’t punish yourself by not revising, or you’ll fail.”

 

“Well who else is there to blame?” Harry muttered miserably, pulling his hand away. He didn’t deserve any kindness - not after all the trouble his best friends were in thanks to him. 

 

Despite his beliefs, Ron and Hermione exchanged a look that said,  _ he’s being insufferable _ . 

 

“Dumbledore will be back, Harry.” Hermione insisted, “And you did nothing wrong, you don’t deserve  _ blame  _ for trying to help everybody to learn!”

 

“She’s right, mate.” Ron agreed, “And anyway, if it’s anyone’s fault, it’s ours. It was our idea for you to teach everyone, remember?”

 

Harry shook his head, before placing it despairingly in his hands. “Yeah, and I agreed!” 

 

Seeing that he wouldn’t be reasoned with, Hermione just turned her attention back to her sheaths of parchment that spread across the entire table. Ron tried to offer Harry a smile, but it looked more like a grimace. He was very stressed, what with exams  _ and  _ the constant detentions. And he was miserable about being unable to do Quidditch. Umbridge had even taken their  _ broomsticks _ , it was terrible. 

And all Harry’s fault. 

He was completely miserable. As he watched Hermione’s eager scribbling as she worked, he felt nothing. Absolutely nothing - he just knew he couldn’t be bothered to even  _ try  _ and he would almost definitely fail all of his exams. Furthermore, he had given up altogether on going to Occlumency lessons with Snape and his dreams were growing more and more painful. Every night he had the same one, a memory of that place Mr Weasley had been when he got attacked. Absentmindedly, his hand rubbed against his arm - then he realised he  _ still  _ hadn’t taken his bangle from Draco of. He had been meaning to, he just never got round to it. Or rather, he could never bring himself to. It would mean an official end. 

As his hand stroked the silver, he realised that Ron was watching him. Feeling as if he had been caught in the act, he instantly dropped his touch, pulling his sleeve down to conceal the gift. It seemed like so long ago… 

 

“It’ll be alright, Harry.” Ron mumbled, and Harry knew he meant more than just everything with Dumbledore and the DA - it was obvious how much his best friend was hurting over losing Draco to the dark side. 

 

Hermione dropped her quill, smiling encouragingly. “He’s right. It will. Dumbledore  _ always  _ saves the day.”

 

Harry felt guilty. He wished he could tell Hermione the truth as well, she didn’t even know what he needed comforting about. There wasn’t even any point anymore, though, there was no truth to tell. Yet somehow, under the concerned gazes of his closest friends in the world, Harry felt overwhelmed. 

All he had done all year was lie to them and get them into trouble. He felt awful - and he knew he always put  _ Draco  _ first. He knew he was a terrible person. 

_ Don’t cry  _ he warned himself.  _ Don’t cry! _

And of course, he cried. Silently at first, the teardrops not quite spilling down his cheeks. He tried to get up and walk away, but obviously this was impossible to do unnoticed. 

 

“Harry!” Hermione said, looking bewildered and pained all at once. She dropped her quill and got up, Ron following as they crossed the small space between them. She threw her arms around Harry, squeezing him tight. 

 

Behind her, Ron smiled shakily. “It  _ will _ be alright mate.” he said, but the hope didn’t quite meet his voice. 

 

“No it won’t.” Harry replied, his breaths growing more unsteady as more tears fell.  _ Not without Draco _ . 

 

When he met Ron’s eyes, he knew that the other boy could probably read his mind - it was obvious how much Harry missed him and how much more miserable he had gotten after everything. 

He felt terrible as well for the fact that Hermione didn’t even know what she was really comforting him about. He tried to take comfort in the fact that Ron’s eyes held comfort, but it  _ wasn’t  _ a comfort. 

He just felt worse and worse as every second ticked by. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! ^_^  
> Also, I don't know if you noticed, but there's only a few more chapters left of this story! However, I hope you'll be happy to know that I'm planning a sequel, I'm really excited about it as it's written from the perspective of Draco, so stay tuned for that :D


	26. sirius' army

Harry hadn’t revised. He’d had weeks to do so, but yet, he’d found himself unable to concentrate on anything but his feelings of angst and utter misery. That was why he was sat in the middle of the great hall, at his desk with his quill motionlessly poised in his hand, unable to answer a single question. His eyes scanned the pages, but he couldn’t get any of the words to sink in, nothing would settle in his brain. It was like water and his head had been hole punched, everything just seeped out. To make matters worse, Umbridge was stood up at the front, on a raised platform, her toad face amused as she watched all of the students suffering through it. Although, that wasn’t even the  _ worst _ . Absolutely the worst thing was that Draco was sat a little in front of Harry, only a couple of rows along so he was clearly visible. Harry couldn’t help it - as much as he knew he had to keep his distance, he couldn’t help but let his eyes rest on that pale blond head. He was behind so he couldn’t see as well, but he was quite certain that like himself, Draco hadn’t answered anything. He was also nervously tapping his foot - Harry watched it like a very interesting show. He was just telling himself to stop thinking about him, to turn his attention back to his OWL if he wanted even a glimmer of a chance of getting good results, when Draco turned his head. It was only for a fraction of a second and he wasn’t even fully looking because otherwise the examiner would think he was cheating - but he looked directly at Harry. It wasn’t just a normal look, either… it looked nervous. And then when he saw Harry was there almost  _ relieved _ , yet also pained. He bit his lip and shook his head, just barely, before hunching back over his desk. 

 

Harry frowned. He’d seen that look on Draco’s face before - when they’d spoken (if you could call it ‘speaking’) in the corridor the other day; when Draco had been planning on warning Harry about the DA being found out. His stomach flipped. He wondered what it was about… but then silently scolded himself. He couldn’t let himself get distracted, he  _ had  _ to pass the exams. He didn’t want the ministry to have any excuse to punish him even more. What if he failed everything so they just kicked him out of Hogwarts entirely? 

He looked back down at the exam paper. He tried to melt his eyes into it, thinking maybe that would help it make sense, but he felt like he was dyslexic or something. None of the words sat still, they all just kept moving and jumping around, finding new ways to distract him. Growing more and more frustrated, he clenched his grip around his quill. His nails dug into his skin, so hard that it hurt, he thought he could feel blood. He chewed on his lip. His head ached. He looked to Draco’s moving foot. 

_ Tap tap tap.  _ It was driving him crazy. Then he couldn’t even control it but his own foot started tapping with it, meeting it’s irregular and immensely irritating rhythm. As he tapped, he realised how strange it felt to be doing something in sync with Draco. He wondered how Draco was doing - he was really smart. He was bound to pass all of his exams, wasn’t he? But then Harry realised how different Draco had been acting lately. 

For starters, he’d joined the Inquisitorial Squad with all the other snot faced Slytherins… although was that really a surprise? After all, he’d always been a Slytherin, his feelings for Harry didn’t matter. But when he wasn’t with his friends, or when he thought nobody was looking (Harry was always looking) he looked sad and so lost you’d think he was in mourning. His skin was so pale it looked a sickly grey and his hair that used to always be so perfectly kept was a mess. His eyes were sometimes bloodshot as if he had been crying and he probably didn’t even eat or drink enough water to function properly. 

_ Stop it, Harry,  _ he told himself sternly,  _ he’s not your issue _ . 

Except he’d  _ always  _ be his issue. In a desperate attempt to stop his fidgeting, Harry shook his head vigorously. He was starting to grow aware of one of the examiners, a very plump man who wore glasses, looking at him with mild curiosity. 

 

_ Focus _ … he tried. He tried and he tried and he tried. He read the question in front of him over and over but the words weren’t forming a single sentence, they just jumped around. He was starting to shake. He felt nervous and he felt sick and so  _ weak _ . His head was light, he couldn’t make sense of anything at all. When he looked up at the chandelier, he felt blinded and a searing pain ran through his head. And then his scar started scorching, spitting flames of furious fire. Then, before he even knew what was happening, he heard his quill drop. He heard the legs of his chair scraping against the floor as he started trying to rise to his feet. The examiner said something to him, and Umbridge screwed up her ugly face, and a few students turned to look at him. He started at a walk, planning on escaping the room because he felt too overwhelmed to stay and his breaths were growing ragged and hot; but then he couldn’t see  _ anything _ . Blackness. 

*********

_ “Take it for me…” he spoke in a cold voice that was not his own - it was piercing and if he were in his own body, he would have trembled. Except he  _ wasn’t  _ in his own body. “Take it down for me. I cannot touch it, but you can.” _

_ He sounded empty and hollow, incapable of feeling any human kindness whatsoever. He was talking to a limp figure on the ground, it was at the end of a long, narrow stretch, shivering and weakened. Until the figure sat up, and it was clearly a man. He crawled more into the light. His face was set in determination, pale and sickly as it was, it was defiant and brave.  _

_ “You’ll have to kill me.” Sirius said, his voice cracking.  _

_ Harry laughed a laugh that was not his own, and then he saw a hand that was not his own either - long, white fingers that held a wand. “ _ Crucio _.” he heard himself say, a voice like ice that would freeze over even the mightiest of flames.  _

_ Sirius screamed. Screamed screamed screamed, but yet he never begged for it to end, he never gave in. When the wand dropped, he stopped, heaving on his hands and knees.  _

 

_ “Undoubtedly, Black, I shall kill you in the end. But not until you get me the prophecy.” The voice hissed, serpentine and pure evil. “You think you have felt pain? Well think again, because we have hours ahead of us… and nobody to hear you scream.” _

*****************

 

Harry screamed. He thrashed on the ground for a moment longer before jerking upright. He stared around wildly, everybody was staring at him like he was insane. Draco’s face swam to him through the crowd, as did Ron and Hermione - the latter two had started to rise to their feet and run towards him. 

 

“Everybody settle down.” The examiner called, “I will escort Mr Potter from the great hall, the rest of you settle down.” 

 

Harry wanted to argue, but he couldn’t find words - he could still hear the sounds of his godfather shrieking with pain. As he remembered that voice he had spoken with, although he knew now that it wasn’t himself, a shiver ran down his spine. It had been so chilling and eerie. Allowing the wizard to help him to his feet, he tried to pretend that he couldn’t see everybody in the year watching him with wide eyes, clearly thinking he was definitely insane like all of the papers said. Never before had the great hall felt so big, it felt like he was walking for eternities past all of the judging and scared stares. The last face he saw as he left, was Umbridge. Her face was twisted into a grin that really didn’t fit with the scene, as if she was glad. Harry was just helping her with her ministry task of completely destroying Harry in the eyes of the Wizarding World. 

When they got outside, the examiner started saying sympathetically, “It’s alright Potter, why don’t we take you to the Hospital wing?”

 

Away from the crowded atmosphere in the great hall, Harry found that his tongue started to work again, although he didn’t really know what he wanted to say. He just knew that Sirius was in danger… 

“No- no, I don’t need the hospital wing.” he stuttered, and he tried to pull away from light touch of the examiner but then realised it was what was steadying him. “Really, I’m fine, I just- I just fell asleep, I had a nightmare.” 

It sounded lame even to his own ears, but the other wizard nodded sympathetically and patted Harry on the shoulder, “Yes, yes, pressure of examinations!” He agreed, “Nothing to be ashamed about, young man, it happens! Now, a cool drink of water and perhaps you will be able to return to the Great Hall to finish off your exam?” 

 

“Yes.” Harry agreed wildly, but then screwed up his face as he did the same with his fists, shaking his head desperately, “I mean, no! I- I don’t think I can do anymore.” 

 

“Okay, very well Mr Potter. Why don’t you go and have a nice lie-down?” the old wizard said gently. Harry nodded in agreement, though he knew that lying down was the last thing he could do - he needed to get to Sirius. 

 

“Yes, I’ll do that.” Harry mumbled, “Thanks, sir.” 

 

The examiner bade him goodbye before turning back and going through the doors to the Great Hall. Harry waited for him to be gone, before he sprinted down the hall, ignoring the fact that his stomach was clawing at his insides as if he was about to throw up. He went up to the dorm, running so fast that he almost fell right into the middle of a group of Hufflepuffs. It was empty in the common room, he was racing so fast that he was panting. He went into his room, grabbed his invisibility cloak and was immediately headed back down the many staircases. He wanted to go right away, but firstly, he had no clue how on earth he was supposed to get to the Ministry, and also he felt he should talk to Ron and Hermione first. As he hurried along, he tried to think of some kind of plan. For the first time, he was actually  _ glad  _ he had that vision of Mr Weasley in December, though, because at least he knew  _ where  _ to go. His heart was pounding and he was absolutely terrified, what if he lost his only living relative? The Durlseys didn’t count, not really. However, he knew that he couldn’t think about that, he couldn’t let himself believe the worst - he just had to concentrate, he  _ had  _ to rescue Sirius. 

 

The exam still had a few minutes left, so he had to wait. He was growing more and more frustrated, pacing the entrance of the school outside the doors of the Great Hall, shaking as well. The only thing keeping him from collapsing due to exhaustion was the adrenaline pumping through his veins - without it, he’d surely be useless. 

At last, the exam was over, and students started to spill out of the hall. Many of them were looking at Harry with interest, probably curious and wanting to ask him what on earth had happened, others didn’t even notice he was stood right by them and were talking noisily; a lot of people were complaining that his outburst had distracted them and they’d done rubbish at the end of the paper. Irritated, he had to clench his fists to stop himself from losing his temper.

 

“Harry!” Hermione said the moment she noticed him, and she practically sprinted towards him, Ron on her heels. 

 

“Mate, what happened?” Ron asked, all concern and nerves. 

 

Quickly, Harry rushed through the explanation of what he had seen, even as he recounted the worse than torturous vision, his scar seared with pain. 

 

“It felt so  _ real _ .” he said, fighting a shiver from trembling down his spine. “Like I was really  _ him _ . He feels so… cold.” 

 

“What should we do, then?” Hermione asked, her face creased as she tried to work through a plan. None of them questioned him to ask if he was sure, they weren’t going to make that mistake after it had taken so long for anybody to believe Harry last time, they’d only just got to Ron’s dad okay. “Tell McGonagall?”

 

“No, I don’t see what good that will do.” Harry said, shaking his head. “I have to get to the ministry, and I have to get there  _ now _ .”

 

“But how?” Ron asked. “Umbridge has our brooms.”

 

“And we can’t use fireplaces.” Hermione added, “They’re blocked so students don’t go in and out of school.”

 

“No, but there’s a fireplace we  _ can  _ use.” Harry said. “Umbridge’s.”

 

Hermione and Ron nodded, knowing that was an option, but clearly were reluctant to try. Looking at him with sorrowful eyes, Hermione told him, “How would we get into her office? And besides, if she caught us-”

 

“I don’t care if she  _ might  _ catch me. I have to try. If we don’t, Sirius dies.” 

 

“You’re right.” Ron agreed, “But Harry, why do you keep saying ‘ _ I’?” _

 

“Well-”

 

“You don’t seriously think we’re letting you go alone, do you?” Hermione asked in disbelief, it sounded as if she might laugh if the situation weren’t quite so dire. She rolled her eyes, “Don’t be daft.”

 

Harry had guessed they would say that. He should have just gone without talking to them, but that wouldn’t have been fair. He felt a weight on his chest as he thought about the many other dangerous things he had dragged them into throughout their friendship. “Look, I don’t want you two to get into trouble because of me-”

 

“It’s not because of you, it’s so that we can save Sirius!” Hermione retorted, “And besides, you can’t face  _ Him  _ on your own.” 

 

“I’ve done it before-” Harry started, ignoring the fact that he hadn’t started out alone, he had Cedric, and look at how he had turned out. 

 

“That’s not the point, Harry.” Hermione said at the same time that Ron said, “We’re bloody coming, alright?”

 

“But-”

 

“The more time you waste arguing with us, the longer it takes to get to Sirius.” Hermione snapped, and then without another word she began marching down the hallway to one of the staircases. She called over her shoulder, “There’s no time to waste!”

 

Knowing that there was no point in arguing anymore, Harry sighed before starting to run after her. She was right, they couldn’t spend any time dawdling. As they went, Ron asked Harry what they would do if Umbridge was in her office. 

“We’ll come to that later.” Harry said. 

 

They’d reached the end of the corridor leading to Umbridge’s office. The door had been painted a sickening shade of pink - and the door was just being opened. Inhaling sharply, Harry ducked around a corner, dragging the others with him. Tentatively, he peered around the wall, and then felt like he would just explode. It was the last thing he needed when he was on a rescue mission - Draco was coming out of the office, and through the tiny crack in the door it looked like he had been in there alone. Frowning, Harry wondered what he was doing, but then remembered he didn’t have time to be thinking about that. He muttered that it was just Draco, and ignoring Hermione’s warning hisses, he moved from their hiding space. Draco stood still on the spot, seeing him immediately, his face frozen into an emotionless statue. 

 

“We’re dead.” Hermione muttered beneath her breath. 

 

Draco had a key in his hand, he had been about to lock the door. But then, he lifted the key for Harry to see, and made a point of putting it deep into the pocket of his robes. He looked sad. Suddenly, Harry wished he could hold him close. He looked sad and small, and Harry felt sad and small and  _ scared _ , he realised just how badly he craved to be close to him. He just needed to feel warm again. 

The moment was over a second later, and Draco turned and walked off in the opposite direction. 

 

“Did that just happen?” Ron asked, sounding shocked. “Well, I guess he helped us. Let’s go-”

 

“Wait!” Hermione said, grabbing onto his hand. They both looked down at their joined hands for a moment too long before breaking apart as if it burned - Harry pretended he hadn’t seen that. “How do we know it’s not a trap?” 

 

Looking at Harry, Ron looked uncertain, but his eyes showed that he was clearly thinking of other things. The few things Harry had told him about his relationship with Draco… how much Draco had cared for Harry. It hadn’t always been set in stone, but Harry knew deep down, despite his fears and how hurt he always felt; Draco did care. Draco was helping them. Harry knew that in his heart. Then he thought back to that look Draco had given him in the exam - did he somehow know what was going on? Maybe his dad had let something slip. 

 

“It’s not a trap.” Ron said. 

 

Shocked, Hermione looked at him with raised eyebrows. “Since when did  _ you  _ trust people? Especially  _ Malfoy _ ?” 

 

Looking awkward, Ron gave Harry a look like he was asking him to help him. Shrugging, he said, “I just think we’ve been given the opportunity, may as well take it.”

 

“But-”

 

“He’s right.” Harry interrupted. “Let’s just go, alright?” 

 

He didn’t give her another chance to say that she didn’t trust him, because her distrust was unnecessary at that moment in time. Despite everything, Draco was helping Harry to save his godfather. All but sprinting towards the hideous pink door, Harry kept thinking about what it meant, what Draco had done; though he knew he shouldn’t have been sparing a single thought for that. There would be time to think about silly things after he had saved Sirius. Usually, Draco was the only thing he worried about, even though he definitely had a lot of things to focus on; but now he knew one thing: Sirius was in trouble. 

None of them dithered anymore, they just went straight to the fireplace. Harry had just sunk his hand into the gross china bowl of floo powder (it was decorated with granny style flowers and somehow, even the  _ floo powder  _ was a bright shade of fuschia) when the door opened. Feeling his nerves go crazy, Harry almost jumped so badly that he nearly made the floo powder go all over the carpet. He thought it must have been Umbridge - he wondered if Hermione had been right. 

Draco probably  _ did  _ hate him after what he had done, so could he blame him if he had gone to tell on them, to get them caught in the act? 

 

It wasn’t Umbridge, though. 

Neville, Luna and Ginny came rushing into the room, their faces set with determination. 

 

“What are you lot doing here?” Harry asked, not having time to feel bad about his rudely despairing tone. He was already getting Ron and Hermione into trouble, he couldn’t get these three into it as well. 

 

“Neville said you had another dream like when you saw dad.” Ginny said, “We came to help.”

 

“No way are you coming, Ginny!” Ron said sternly. 

 

Ginny, however, just glowered at him, clearly not a fan of him attempting to stop her. “Why shouldn’t I?”

 

“Because it’s too dangerous, and because I say so!” Ron snapped. “If you come, mum will kill me!” 

 

“Well I’m guessing either way, there’s a risk of you getting killed, so I’ll take my chances.” The youngest Weasley retorted. 

 

Harry, growing more and more impatient, looked at the three of them. Ginny seemed like a little sister to him, he couldn’t help but agree with Ron on the fact that she shouldn’t be going; Luna looked as if she had no clue what she was doing there, and Neville… he didn’t have anymore excuses, other than he wouldn’t be the reason someone else died. 

“No, you won’t.” Harry said, and Ginny looked at him as if she had been immensely betrayed. “You three stay here-”

 

“Dumbledore’s Army was meant to be about doing something together.” Neville said in a small voice. He looked let down, his eyes wide as moons as he stared at Harry. Behind him, a clock (there was a cat on the face of it) ticked. Time was getting on, he didn’t know how much longer Sirius would have left. Shaking his head, he exhaled his agitation. “Fine, do what you want, but we’re going  _ now _ .”

 

Ignoring Ron’s protests about Ginny not being allowed, Harry turned back to the fireplace. He took some floo powder, took one more deep breath. Then, without looking back, he stepped into it. 

 

“The Ministry of Magic, London!” he cried, feeling the powder slip through his fingertips, before he was dissolved into a puff of smoke and flames, the hideous office of Professor Umbridge disappearing before his very eyes.

 

***********

 

Harry hadn’t thought about what would have happened if the ministry had been full with workers, but somehow, even though it wasn’t even that late, the entrance hall was entirely empty. Ron was the last one through the fireplace, and the minute he stepped out he continued muttering to Ginny about how she should have stayed at home. 

 

“Well, she’s here.” Harry muttered, “So can we stop arguing and  _ find Sirius _ ?” 

 

“Harry’s right.” Hermione said, and her voice shook, everybody was kind enough to act like they hadn’t noticed. 

 

They were all obviously terrified. As they stood quietly, the nerves thrummed through the air. Their knees all shook at a rhythm, their fingers trembled, their breaths uneven. Harry looked around at them all. They all looked determined, despite their fear. They were being brave - to help Harry, and to save Sirius. 

 

“Ready?” he asked. 

 

They all nodded. For a second, Harry found himself remembering how he had felt back at Hogwarts only a few moments ago - he craved Draco again. He wished he was there to make him feel safe. But he wasn’t. 

He’d be okay without him. He had some of the best friends in the world, it was true. 

Though as much as he told himself that, he still wished he had that familiar touch to steady his hand. He was pretty sure he wouldn’t even be able to fire any spells, his palms were so sweaty the wand would probably fall straight to the ground. But again, he wasn't alone. He was never alone. 

He had Luna, kind and wise. He had Neville, determined to stand up and do whatever it took to be loyal to his friends. He had Ginny, fiery and determined. He had Hermione, her witty intelligence and her loving soul. And he had Ron, who would stand by him no matter what, through thick or thin - life or death. The perfect army - an army for Sirius. 

  
“Let’s do this.” he said. 


	27. the ministry

The problem was, even though they knew Sirius was in the Ministry, they had no idea  _ where exactly _ he was within the building - and the building was incredibly large. When Harry described the room to all of them, none of them had any recollection of seeing it whatsoever - and it was quite hard to describe anyway. It had been pitch black other than weird orb like things lining the walls, but that was all he could say; he’d only seen tiny areas of it and both times he had been more concerned about the action than the scene. 

“Do you remember anyone saying  _ anything  _ about where they found your dad?” he asked, whirling on Ron and Ginny, trying so hard to fight the rising panic in his chest.

Both of them exchanged looks and then looked back to Harry, shrugging apologetically. Harry cursed under his breath, before declaring that the only thing they could was to search everywhere.

“That’ll take all night, even more if we’re separated, and I really don’t think-” Hermione started to say, Harry tugged frustratedly at his messy black hair. 

“Well what else can we do?!” he snapped, and then she flinched and he felt bad. Mumbling a sorry under his breath, Harry turned back around, his back to the five of them. Then he felt a gentle touch on his shoulder, and he jumped, on edge. Of course, it wasn’t as if Voldemort had found them but he felt petrified - however, it was just Luna.

She looked at him in her very intense way, “Harry, you have to close your eyes.” she said. 

“Um- Luna, no offence but I really don’t have the time for  _ closing my eyes _ , my Godfather could be getting murdered right this very minute-”

“No, maybe it’ll bring another vision.” She insisted.

Harry tried to tell her that it didn’t work like that, he couldn’t choose when he got them, but Hermione spoke over him. “No, Harry, maybe she’s right! Snape’s been trying to teach you how to  _ stop  _ him from getting in, right? So maybe now you have to  _ let _ him in. Find out where they are.”

It did make sense. He felt uncomfortable with them all staring at him expectantly, and they didn’t have any others. Taking a deep breath, he shut his eyes. Then, he did the opposite of what Snape had been trying to get him to do. He completely lowered his guard. He felt so vulnerable and afraid as he braced himself for the excruciating pain that would fire through his head - only, nothing happened. When he opened eyes, they all looked doubtfully hopeful - like they new nothing had happened but were still trying to remain optimistic. Feeling his shoulders slump, Harry shook his head. They were stuck - they had no choice but to search every single floor of the ministry; which as Hermione had said, would take forever. By the time they reached Sirius… he’d probably already be dead.

“Bloody hell.” Ron said, and he looked around at the entrance hall which alone was ginormous. “How do we do this? Split up?”

They all started trying to appoint each other areas to search, but it was like trying to find a single penny lost in space. It seemed entirely impossible that they would  _ ever  _ find Sirius - it was like the more they looked at the little map by the deserted sign in desk, more rooms randomly appeared. There were times Harry really didn’t like magic.

“I don’t like this.” Hermione whispered chillingly, her eyes scanning their surroundings. “Since when is the ministry  _ ever  _ completely empty?”

“It’s never empty.” Neville said, “It’s always packed.”

Their discussion was interrupted, though, when suddenly, Harry lost his footing and fell. Neville and Ron both managed to catch him before he fell to the ground, but then he let out a yell of pain, clawing at his scar. All of them looked terrified, trying to snap him out of it, but it was suddenly like he had fallen asleep, fallen straight into an inescapable nightmare.

“What’s wrong with him?” Ginny said frantically. “What do we do?”

“I don’t know - do you think it’s…  _ him _ ?” Hermione asked.

“It is him, but it’s what we wanted!” Neville said excitedly, definitely too excited for somebody who’s friend seemed to be getting tortured in his subconscious. “This is what happens when he sees You-Know-Who, isn’t it?”

Just as he said that, the moment was over, and Harry’s cries died down. The boys steadied him on his feet, though he was suddenly lightheaded and dizzy so he just had to cling onto them again, but he was awake. His face was pale as a sheet - it was probably only a matter of time until he threw up, he’d never had more than one small vision before, and suddenly he was definitely overworking himself.  

“Harry, maybe you should sit down-”

“No, no! I know where he is. Well, I think I do.”

“Where?!” they all chorused impatiently. 

Harry looked thoughtful for a second, trying to remember exactly, “I saw a sign by the door. The Department of Mysteries.” 

They all started wordlessly for the row of lifts on the far wall, but Ginny said, “Harry, shouldn’t you have some water first?”

“There’s no time!” Harry said, “I’m fine.” 

It was true, he always managed to survive even the worst pains, but he looked  _ terrible _ . Fear for Sirius, the pain of the visions, the  _ exhaustion _ of the visions; all on top of the heartbreak and immense stress of the exams, Umbridge, The DA… it was a wonder he’d made it quite so far. But the others knew there was no point trying to reason with him - and it was a fair point. They had to get to Sirius, they’d already taken too long. The six of them crammed into one of the tiny lifts, so tightly boxed that they could barely move. Somehow, Ron managed to reach the buttons, they were labelled thankfully, and they began to move. It was rather a fairground ride of a lift - really not what Harry wanted on his already uneasy stomach. It went not only up and down but backwards, left and right, forwards - and then it spun in a circle. It was like the spinning teacups only a lot worse, since they were all also beginning to feel rather claustrophobic. Eventually, it came to a stop, and a cool voice that was so loud it made them all jump out of their skin announced, “Department of Mysteries.” 

There was a moment in which everything seemed completely frozen. The gate clanged open but they all stood still, uncertain in the lift as they stared out at the department, and then back to each other with mirroring faces of nervous fear. It was pretty much complete blackness - so dark that it seemed as if there was nothing actually out there and if they tried to leave the elevator, they’d just end up falling through an abyss. It was like this was their last chance to back out. Of course; Harry knew there was no way he would, but the others had every right to be there. In fact, although he definitely would have been terrified on his own, he sort of wished they  _ would  _ leave. It would be bad enough if Sirius died, yet alone if all of them did. He waited for them so say it. 

And yet, he wasn’t even surprised when none of them did. 

“Let’s do it.” Neville said, and his voice shook a little but he spoke clearly, confidently. 

And they stepped out. 

Well, for starters, it certainly wasn’t a black hole, their feet touched ground. It was a very thin hallway, and it looked as if stretched on for eternities of just shadows and blackness. Windowless and eerie, it felt as if they were being watched. It was impossible to know what was hiding in the cold surroundings. 

“Lumos.” Ginny said, and the others all copied - but it didn’t help, the darkness somehow overpowered the usually so bright tips of their wands; like a blanket wrapped around any possible way of seeing.

“Is this it?” Ron asked Harry, confused. 

“No, there’s a door at the end.” Hermione said before Harry could reply, though not in her usual know-it-all voice. She didn’t sound curious or interested, she sounded like it was the last thing on her mind. 

Harry looked around at them all, though it was hard to even see their faces. Suddenly, there was a loud  _ BANG _ ! 

They all leaped out of their skin as their hearts leapt as well, six shaking hands simultaneously flew to grab their wands. 

“It was the lift.” Luna stated, not sounding the least bit afraid. She was right, it had taken an abnormally long time to leave - or maybe not. Maybe only seconds had passed, it just felt like minutes. The department of mysteries felt like it was another world, another realm where time didn’t matter. Harry gulped - what was Sirius doing down here? Why had Mr Weasley been down here? What was it about the Department of Mysteries? The others all seemed to be thinking along similar lines, other than Luna who actually looked rather in her element whilst the other five all glanced from face to face wearily.

“Well, come on then.” Ginny said suddenly, shaking her head. She was putting on a voice of brave determination, and Harry felt a little reassured by it. It brought him back to his senses - they couldn’t waste time being afraid. They had to save Sirius.

Ginny had already began walking forwards swiftly, down the lonely hallway. Luna and Hermione followed, then Neville. Ron and Harry brought up the rear - but as he was about to walk, Ron grabbed onto the sleeve of Harry’s shirt.

Frowning, Harry was about to ask what he was doing, but Ron spoke in a very low voice; “I’ve had a thought.”

“What kind of thought?” Harry asked. He hadn’t really spoken much, and suddenly he became very aware of how heavily he was breathing, which led onto the acknowledgement that he was sweating and his head felt as if it weighed tons. He shook that off though, or at least tried to.

“Remember when Snape told you, if you didn’t learn to protect your mind, You-Know-Who would be able to play tricks on you? And- and make you think things?”

Not liking the sound of that, Harry nodded his head.

“Well - how do you know that this is real? How are you so certain that it isn’t just a trap?” 

But Harry couldn’t let himself think that. He couldn’t let himself believe that they had come all of that way just for it to be him leading his friends into their own deaths. He shook his head, trying to think of an explanation to ease Ron’s mind. “I- I just know.” he said slowly.

“But-”

“What are you two doing?” Hermione called back, she was standing in the doorway sounding frustrated. “Come here! Now!”

As if they had just been scolded by Mrs Weasley, Harry and Ron hurried down the hallway, it was a little easier now that the door was open and they could see it wasn’t just leading to nowhere, a very dim light reached them. Incredibly dim - the circular chamber they had found themselves in only had a few candles, emitting very low flames. Still, the walls and the floor were blacker than black; though the marble floor shone ever so slightly. It was like standing water, almost rippling. Around the room, were twelve doors - all of them identical, with no handles.

“What do we do, Harry?” Neville asked.

Again, Hermione spoke before Harry got the chance to reply. “Well we’re going to have to go through all of them until we get the right room, aren’t we?!” she said frustratedly. She was clearly finding it very difficult to work things out, shortening her tempter immensely.

Silently, Harry picked a door at random, there was no way of him being able to work out which was the right one. The others all stayed close to him as he walked towards it, pretending like it wasn’t an effort to hold himself steady. As there was no handle, he pushed it uncertainly, wondering if it would even work. It had seemed like it probably wouldn’t, like they would need some kind of special key to get through - but it fell open easily. Uncertainly, Harry entered the room, though he didn’t know why he did so for it definitely wasn’t the room he had seen Sirius in. Something was drawing him in - he could hear voices. Whispers. He wondered… what if Ron was right? Were there people waiting to ambush him?

“Is this the room, Harry?” Hermione hissed impatiently, he wasn’t moving anymore, marvelling as he stood only a little in the doorway. The room was large and square, just as dark as all the other rooms had been but more… ghostly. Around the room were stone tiers that led down to a pit in the middle of the room. Intrigued, Harry peered over. In the pit was a dais, and on the dais there was an archway, and in the archway there hung an old tattered curtain that seemed to swing as if wind were blowing. The closer Harry got, the louder the whispers rung in his ears. It didn’t look like the room, not at all, but…

“Is that you Ron? Whispering?” he asked, though he didn’t need Ron’s assurance that it wasn’t to know so. He just wished he knew  _ who _ … it felt like they were calling to him. 

“Harry?” Ginny asked, “Is it?”

Slowly, Harry shook his head.

“Then let’s-”

“Who’s through there?” Harry mumbled, nodding in the direction of the pit.

“What do you mean who’s through there? There’s nobody there.” Ron asked, but Harry was too entranced to reply, he had started to walk to the centre of the room in a daze, so he said, “Look, Harry if this isn’t where Sirius-”

“No, there is.” Harry argued, moving closer still - Luna was still walking with him, but the others were all hanging back warily. “I can hear whispers.”

“I can hear them too.” Luna said softly.

“There are no voices, Harry.” Hermione said, and her impatience seemed to have been replaced with concern. She sounded worried, and she walked towards the pit herself, only a lot faster than the slow approach of Luna and Harry. Before they could go down to the sinister looking dais, she held onto their hands and pulled them round to face her. It felt as i they had woken up, and both of them shook their heads and blinked rapidly.

“What was that?” Harry asked.

“I don’t know, but I really don’t like this room.” Hermione said, and a shiver trembled visibly down her spine. “It feels like death.”

Gladly but somehow still reluctantly, Luna and Harry followed the others out of the room. Ginny had just started saying, “One down, eleven to go!” when the door shut - and the walls started to move. Suddenly they were spinning, faster faster faster like a roundabout and a second later, it was still, no sign of it ever having had moved.

“Merlin’s pants.” Hermione snapped furiously, glaring around at the room - she sounded so angry that nobody had it in them to be amused at her phrase. “How will we know which rooms we’ve looked in and which we haven’t?”

“I think that’s the point.” Ginny said in a hushed voice, shaking her head with exasperation.

“How are we going to get out?” asked Neville, looking uncertain and uneasy. 

Shaking his head, Harry decided it best if he didn’t care, he’d just keep opening doors until he found the right one. As he moved across to another, he said, “It doesn’t matter how we get  _ out _ , all that matters is we find Sirius for now.”

He placed his hand against the black door, it felt cold to the touch like marble, and pushed it open easily. The others all positioned themselves around him, and as the door swung forward they lifted their wands in one fluid motion, all of them prepared to strike if need be. Instantly, though, Harry knew it wasn’t the right room. It seemed brighter, not as dimly lit, there were more candles and even a couple of lamps. There were also huge glass tank containers that held shiny green liquid that glimmered, and in the liquid there seemed to be pearly-white objects floating around. They looked a little disgusting and there was something ominous about them. 

“What are those?” somebody asked, and Hermione frowned at them, moving a little into the room, approaching the nearest tank and looking up at it. She went to place a hand against the class but seemed to think better of it, dropping it back down to her side.

“I think they’re  _ brains _ .” she said matter of factly, though also disturbed. 

“Daddy always told me to be careful in case somebody tried to steal my brain.” Luna said. 

Harry had a feeling that that wasn’t exactly related to the freaky antics that the ministry seemed to be up to… what on earth could they be doing with  _ brains _ ? But that was besides the point, he shook his head slowly. “I think we should go back out, this room isn’t the right one.”

They crowded back out into the circular room, Harry the last one to leave, but just as he was about to shut the door, Hermione stopped him by putting a hand on his arm. Ignoring his confusion, she drew with her wand in the air and said under her breath, “Flagrate!”

Following the movement of her wand, there suddenly appeared a large fiery X on the door. When they shut the door, they all watched closely to see if it would work. As expected, the walls began to move in a circle, and when they came to a stop, the door in front of them had no symbol on it. They turned around, though, and found the one with the X on them was across on the other side of the room. 

“Good thinking, Hermione!” Ron said, sounding appreciative, and she only had a second to smile at him in answer before they were following Harry to another door. He pushed it open - it was the first room they had been in. Again, something made him want to go in, and Luna nearly did but Neville held onto her arm to stop her, looking incredibly wary. Both Luna and Harry had looked as if they had seen a ghost again, but Harry was determined not to waste any more time. Fighting the feeling off (it was difficult and sent a shiver down his spine), he let Hermione mark the door with another X before shutting it.

Next, they went to open the door to their right. Only, they couldn’t do it, it wouldn’t budge. It stayed completely solid, and Harry grunted as he pushed his weight onto it as hard as he could, but still - nothing. 

“Alohamora.” Hermione said sharply, pointing her wand at a spot on the door where a lock would have been on a normal door - but she should have known it wouldn’t work, especially down in the Department of Mysteries.

“Hold on,” Ginny mumbled, moving to stand at the front of the group as she dug through the pockets of her robes, pulling out an incredibly sharp knife. Ron opened his mouth as if to ask if she always carried around a knife, but she said, “Did none of you bring any weapons?” 

They all just stared blankly at her, so she rolled her eyes before turning back to the door. She slid the knife through the very tiny crack between the door and the black wall, moving it from top to bottom. Once she had withdrew it, she tried to shove the door again with her body, but it remained as locked shut as ever. Also, when she looked at her knife, the blade seemed to have been melted.

“Alright, not this room then.” Hermione whispered, painting another X with her wand. 

“But what if that is it and we just can’t get it open?” Ron asked, staring at the door with a mixture of wariness and hopeless longing. 

Harry shook his head, moving onto the next door as he explained, “It can’t be - in the dream I could get through them all.” Trying to push the last door with all of his strength had made him feel dizzy, he really should have had a lie down. He knew though, that it was no use thinking of what he  _ should  _ have done. 

He pressed his hands against the door, and as soon as it fell open he knew. 

“This is it!” he said, instantly recognising what was in front of him.

“Are you sure?” Neville asked, and it sounded as if he really hoped he  _ wasn’t  _ sure, his eyes widening as the sight of the room washed over him.

It was a beautiful room - it’s light seemed to shine like glistening diamonds under moonlight, it seemed warm yet frightening all at once. Yet it was also long and black and empty, as the first room by the lift had looked. The walls were also lined with clocks - once his eyes had adjusted to the light he could see that they had left Hogwarts almost two hours ago. That made his heart start to race - they had taken so long, the department made time seem different - what if they were too late? Yet the proof that they were definitely on the right track to finding Sirius also made his heart beat with a fire of promising determination. He moved forwards and it felt like deja vu, his chest rising and falling frantically as he stalked forwards; the others in his wake. At the end of the room, there was a little arch-shaped door, it looked like one Voldemort had gone through in the dreams. He’d never even realised before just how much he had seen the Department of Mysteries - the only times he had thought of were with Arthur and Sirius. Yet now, he realised it had been a recurring dream for weeks, months even.

Just for a split second, he paused at the door, and he glanced around at everyone - they all looked serious and anxious as they held their wands steady, or as steadily as they could manage anyway; their fingers all shook with nervous tremors. 

Harry pushed it open. 

It was it - Sirius was there. It wasn’t small like all the other rooms had been - on the contrary, it was huge, and the ceiling was high like a church. The room itself was full of long and towering shelves. The shelves were lined with crystal like orbs, the glass glimmering under flaming lights of candles that lined the walls. The flames weren’t warm shades of red and orange, though - they were freezing cold like ice, roaring a burning blue that seemed to almost echo around them.

Silently, they all started to edge forwards, and they chose a row at random and moved down it. It was very thin, the rows formed by close units of shelves. The shelves were so black, though, that they seemed to fade into the walls and the floor, so all they could really see were the glass balls. 

“It’s ninety-seven.” Harry said, he hadn’t even realised the number at first but suddenly he saw it painted on the backs of his eyes. “That’s where he is.”

“We need to go right, then.” Hermione said, peering up at the shelf number, having to squint to see it properly. “Yes, this is fifty three and that one is fifty four, so let’s go this way.”

They all sped up, a walk turning to a run before they knew it, eyes scanning the aisles as they went. The closer they got, the more Harry’s blood pumped through his body, and his breaths were uneven. As soon as they reached ninety-seven, they halted. All of them stood at the end of the row, looking down it. They were no longer running, suddenly scared and uncertain… it looked as if it were completely empty. Harry felt his head go slightly numb - shock, embarrassment, fear, guilt. His mouth went dry.

“He’s right down the end.” Harry managed to say, it felt like a struggle, “We just can’t see it from here.”

He led them forwards, between the towering rows of glass orbs, glowing softly. As they went, Harry kept mumbling things about how he was there, he had to be there, he’d  _ seen  _ him… but he knew already. He’d let them down. He had brought them all out here for nothing, they’d all risked getting into huge trouble for nothing…

“Harry?” Hermione tried to say tentatively, obviously about to state the fact that there was nobody there. Nobody…

“He must be here!” he said, but his words sounded limp and feeble - he knew that he wasn’t. He just couldn’t face the truth, he couldn’t work out any explanation and he didn’t want to have admit to them his mistake. He should have carried on his lessons with Snape, he should have…

“Maybe he’s just-” he started to say, shaking his head and running down the space between the rows, scanning each line as he went. The others watched him, nobody following him anymore, their wands all lowered rather than poised and ready to fire just in case.

He paced up and down, but the dread and the Sirius-less room had suddenly kicked in even harder. The passing out from earlier had started to take effect, he felt exhaustion settle into and he felt as if he might collapse. He returned to the others, though he really didn’t want to. He wished he could just run off and be on his own. 

“Harry, I don’t think he’s here.” Hermione said, watching him with sad eyes as his own eyes continued to wander about, searching and scanning desperately.

Nobody spoke. They were all looking at him, he felt humiliated and confused. He felt sick. His palms were sweating and his knees were knocking. It was pointless, but he just continued to walk up and down, trying so hard to find any sign,  _ anything  _ to show that Sirius had been there. There was absolutely nothing though, not even any sign of a struggle, no blood or anything to suggest that his godfather had been there at all. He hadn’t been…

“Harry?” Ron called - he seemed to have drifted away from the others.

“What?” Harry snarled, losing his temper. He didn’t want to hear what Ron had to say; didn’t want to hear his best friend tell him that he had been stupid and reckless, didn’t want to hear him suggest that they ought to get back to school. He didn’t want to hear the disappointment in his voice when he pointed out that Harry had been wrong.

Ron said none of those things. He said in a small voice, “Have you seen this?”

“Seen what?” Harry asked despairingly, but he followed the sound of his voice and found him staring up at one of the shelves. His gaze was fixed on one of the orbs, and Harry didn’t need to be told when Ron said, “It’s got your name on it.”

The shelf was engraved with words:

 

**S.P.T to A.P.W.B.D**

**Dark Lord and (?) Harry Potter**

 

Everybody crowded around Ron and Harry, craning their necks to read what it said. They had gone strangely quiet, it felt like somebody was watching them, it was as if the orbs all had eyes directed at Harry’s back. 

“What are these?” Ginny asked, her voice a scared whisper as she directed the question to Hermione, but for once, Hermione had no answer. She merely shook her head, her eyes fixed on the words as her lips moved silently, mouthing what she read…

“Very good, Potter.”

They all tensed, solid as statues. The voice was instantly familiar… the son of it’s owner had helped them to come here. Suddenly, Harry remembered how Draco had seemed to know, he’d wanted to warn him. As one, the six of them turned to face a group of witches and wizards who stood nearby; and at the very front was Lucius Malfoy.

“Yes, very very good.” he continued, but he sounded very bored and not at all impressed. “Now hand me the prophecy."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope this chapter is okay, sorry it's mostly just a build up and a lot really happens haha I hope it's okay :D


	28. losing fight

Instantly, the six of them closed into a tight knit grip, holding out their wands. As they did, Harry’s heart pounded. Ron had been right, Sirius wasn’t and had never been there, they had been led into a trap… a dangerous, deadly trap. He suddenly had flashbacks of the graveyard, last year… it had been a group much like this. Taunting and evil and cruel. Harry and his friends tried to pretend like they weren’t all equally as terrified as each other, but their closeness also meant they could sense how each of them were breathing heavy breaths, each of their knees knocked. Yet somehow, they managed to stand boldly brave as they stared at Lucius and the group of death eaters around him. 

 

“Why should I give you it?” Harry said loudly, his voice carrying around the empty room with an echo - it made himself jump, he hadn’t realised but he’d not been daring to speak above a whisper since they first stepped out the fireplace. “Why’s it got my name on it?!” 

He got no answer, though. They all laughed at him, and he felt his cheeks flame up in humiliation. The laughter cut off, though, with a woman walking forward. She came to a stop beside Malfoy, and took down the black hood of her cape. Even in the darkness, her mess of black curls was unmistakable - she’d been all over the papers, reportedly having just escaped from Azkaban Prison. 

Harry wasn’t the only one to realise, though he was a little confused by the reaction. Neville suddenly hurtled forwards, his wand lifted high as he yelled furiously, “Bellatrix Lestrange!”

Without a moment of hesitation, she flicked her wand and he was made momentarily silent, his words dying and he stopped, a hand going to his throat. 

 

“Longbottom is it?” she said, and she  _ smiled.  _ An evil smile, it made the hairs on Harry’s arm stand up. “I’d think again before you tried to attack me, sweetheart. How’s mum and dad?”

None of them knew what had happened to Neville’s parents, but they knew he lived with his gran. Suddenly, though, Harry got a sickening realisation that it had been something to do with Bellatrix. Bellatrix who was in cahoots with Draco’s  _ dad _ … 

He also got a sickening feeling when Malfoy spoke, “ _ Enough _ . We didn’t come to fight.” 

Harry got the feeling that was exactly what they’d all come to do. They were staring at the six kids with eyes hungry for violence. The worst part was when he looked at Malfoy though…. How could he hate someone who looked so much like the boy he  _ loved _ ? How could Draco have been brought up by such a horrible wizard? Suddenly, Harry’s thoughts wandered back to that letter he’d sent Draco that Draco had never actually received… did Lucius  _ know _ ? He shook his head, he couldn’t let himself get distracted by Draco. 

“Then what did you come for?” He asked, “This?”

He turned around for a second, just barely a second, not daring to have his back to them for too long. He lifted the orb like object off the shelf, and instantly wondered if that was the right thing to have done; he heard the sharp inhaling of the group of death eaters, eager and like they were one step closer to getting what they wanted. 

“That exactly, Potter. Now give it to me, and nobody gets hurt.” said Malfoy simply, his eyes glinting maliciously. As he walked closer to them, the others followed; and as they approached, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Neville, Luna and Ginny all lifted their wands higher. Their hands all seemed to shake, and there was a noise like bottles shaking, they’d all backed into the shelf by accident. 

“What do you want with it?” Harry demanded, lifting the prophecy higher, “Don’t come any closer or I’ll smash it right now!” 

That just made them laugh. It felt like they were all being seen as pantomime acts, the death eaters teasing them, ridiculing them. His insides twisted, he felt sick by the lot of them. 

“Don’t come any closer!” Bellatrix mimicked him, putting on a baby voice. “Ittle bwaby Pwotter.” she simpered. 

Harry was about to say something, he didn’t even know what he just felt the danger clock ticking faster, but somebody had fired a spell - Neville. A beam of light was firing straight at Bellatrix, and she blocked it easily, but looked absolutely shocked. She stared at Neville with searing fury, marching closer instantly. 

“Bella.” Malfoy snapped harshly, “No. You know what The Dark Lord said - give them a chance to behave. To fight would not be wise.”

He turned his attention to Harry, “Did you hear that, Potter? Are you going to behave and hand me the prophecy?”

Glaring, Harry thought to himself - no way were they getting it. It seemed important enough, the entire Order had spent almost a year of their lives protecting it. “What is it? This- this  _ prophecy _ ? Because there’s no way you’re getting it!”

He had spoken unwisely. Suddenly, all he could see was a thick black smoke in the air and Harry could hear scuffling, he stared around frantically; when it cleared he realised it had been the unnaturally fast swirling of robes. His friends no longer stood safely (as safely as they could have been in the situation) behind him, but each one were the clawed grips of death eaters, circled around him. All of them looked terrified, and Harry noticed with a sinking feeling that they were also wandless. 

“Are you having second thoughts?” Malfoy asked, he was standing in the middle of the circle with Harry, and his black, emotionless eyes scanned around the room, lingering for a second too long on each of his friends. “Think, Harry. Be clever. You can either be defiant and be the cause of even  _ more  _ deaths… or you can hand me the prophecy.” 

“Don’t give it to him Harry!” Neville yelled, but he was hushed, and the room went silent other than for the sound of Bellatrix’s wand tapping against his adam’s apple roughly. Seeing she was the one holding Neville made Harry’s insides squirm - it looked as if he touch alone was causing his fellow Gryffindor enough pain. 

Harry wouldn’t give him the prophecy, he couldn’t. He considered just smashing it, but clearly it was something important, he couldn’t be the cause of its loss. Yet he had to do something… eventually, maybe he would have to give it to them. But for the moment, he had time. He tried to think of something to do, and as he did so, he spoke. 

“What is this prophecy?” Why do you want it so bad?” Harry said, his voice shook as his stare kept going along the same path, watching the others struggling. “Why does Voldemort want it?”

“DON’T YOU DARE SPEAK HIS NAME!” somebody - Bellatrix - roared, “You filthy-”

“Shut up.” Malfoy said coolly, and for a moment, there was such a similarity between him and his son that it made Harry feel cold all over. The difference was, Draco definitely wasn’t evil. When he spoke with that arrogance, it was all some schoolboy act; but his father… he was dangerous. 

Stupidly, Harry got sidetracked, he started thinking about how sad and lonely it must have been for Draco, growing up in a home with this man, this empty shell of a man who had no warmth; no kindness. It was a wonder Draco could even love at all. His distraction, however, was very noticeable. 

“Accio prophecy!” Lucius said suddenly, and Harry only just managed to shout, “Protego!” It worked, the glass remained in his hand, but it had been a near loss. 

“Oh, little bitty baby Potter knows how to play!” Bellatrix laughed maniacally, and Harry glanced nervously in her direction; Neville looked immensely uncomfortable in her grip. “Well then, if young Potter here needs more persuasion, how about we torture this one, hey Potter? Will watching him writhe in pain just as his parents did make you want to follow orders like a good little boy?”

Instantly, Harry could see the fear in Neville’s widening eyes. Panic rising within him, Harry held up the prophecy, raising his voice to a yell so he could be heard over her crazy laughter, “If you hurt any of my friends, I’ll smash it!”

It worked, she fell silent instantly, her eyes deepening with uttermost loathing as she stared at him. The tip of her tongue moistened her thin mouth, it looked like a monster hungrily gazing at it’s prey. Everybody had their attention on him, waiting to see what he would do next. 

“Oh, but my boy, you wouldn’t do that.” Malfoy said in a low hiss. “Don’t you want to know what that prophecy about? Aren’t you… curious, about the connection between you and The Dark Lord?”

Harry was curious. He had always wondered what exactly it was that made Voldemort so intent on killing him. No, maybe he wouldn’t smash it, but he certainly wasn’t letting the death eaters have it.  Freaking out even further, he noticed how his friends had started quietly wincing as if the tight grips on them were growing more and more painful, claw like nails digging into skin. 

Trembling, Harry asked, “Why did Voldemort need me to come and get it? Why did he make me think Sirius was here?” 

Malfoy looked amused. “You really are as dumb as dumb can be, aren’t you, precious Potter?” 

The insult didn’t do well for Harry’s temper, he held the prophecy up further into the air, purposely doing so with a shaking hold so it looked as if he could easily drop it. 

“Let my friends go, and I’ll give you the prophecy.” he said. It was a lie, he didn’t intend on giving them anything. But he had the power, as much as the death eaters teased him, as much as they tried to  _ pretend  _ they were in control… it was all up to him. 

“Don’t trust him!” someone said, but Lucius silenced them with a wave of his hand. 

“Let them go. Young Potter knows very well that we will kill them instantly if he tricks us.” 

Desperately, Harry nodded his head to show this was the truth - he did know it. 

“And give them their wands back!” he added, “Then I’ll give you the prophecy and we’ll leave. I just need to know that you won’t hurt them.” 

Hermione and Ron were shaking their heads at him frantically, but he ignored them. He watched as they were all released from aching grips and moved uncertainly towards the middle of the circle. Soon they stood in a small group again, reunited in their front against the death eaters. However, Harry had made a deal, a deal he didn’t intend to keep; and breaking a promise with Malfoy seemed like a very bad idea indeed.

A twisted smile on his face, Draco’s father began to walk towards them, and as he moved he held out his hand. 

“You got your friends back,” he said, “Now. Hand. Me. The prophecy.” 

The closer he got, the more on edge Harry started to feel. As his fingers trembled, Harry lifted up his wand, “Stay back!” he demanded. 

“Not to worry, Potter, we won’t hurt you.” Lucius almost purred, his voice so low it was hard to hear, but the quietness seemed to be a sign of danger. 

Discreetly, or as much so as he could manage, Harry backed further into the others, and he mumbled almost silently, struggling to hide the movement of his lips, “When I say go…” 

His eyes widened, the longer he was taking to give the prophecy to Lucius, the more impatient their enemies got, and soon they were all closing in on them. Wondering which one they would kill first, Harry felt as the blood rushed from his face and he knew he must have been as pale as a sheet. 

“Shatter them.” he hissed, and then he held out his hand with the prophecy in it. With a look of crazed hunger, Malfoy reached out to yank it from Harry’s hold, but Harry pulled it back towards him. 

“Now, now, Harry, don’t be-”

“Go!” Harry cried, and five other voices joined his own, bellowing “REDUCTO!”

All five curses hit opposite shelves, and before anyone could even acknowledge what had happened, the rows and rows of prophecies began to explode all over the bits. There was sounds of screams of frustration mingled with the smashing of glass, strange ghost like voices began to float through the air, but there were so many that it was impossible to pick out anything that any of them actually said. 

Harry didn’t have to tell the others what to do next - they ran. In a cloud of breaking prophecies and flying bits of shelf, they had a few seconds to scarper unseen. Staying as closely knit as they could was difficult, some of them were too slow and a shelf separated them; Ron, Luna and Ginny had to go off one way, leaving Harry with Neville and Hermione. 

“Harry, through here!” Hermione shouted, and she grabbed his sleeve and pulled him towards a door. They came out back into the entrance chamber, lined with doors. Harry stared at the prophecy, he’d managed to get away with it in one piece - but… 

“Listen!” Neville said in a scared voice, the room had finished spinning and he managed to easily locate the door to the room of prophecies, he had his ear pressed up against it. Harry and Hermione copied, and they could hear muffled voices arguing. 

“It’s the Weasley boy!” one of them was saying, “Let’s finish him while he’s out-”

Ron! He was alone - and seemingly passed out. Harry’s breaths sped up to pants and he instantly felt a sweat coming on, his head went numb with fear. 

“No! We’ve got no time,” another hissed, “Do you want to be on trial for murder? He’s out cold, that gives us enough time to get the prophecy and deal with Potter!”

“Where the bloody hell is Potter?”

There was a sound of heavy footsteps and with petrified eyes, Hermione shook her head, realising they were coming out of the prophecy room. Without any hesitation, she dived into the next room, not bothering to check which it was. Following behind her, Neville looked over his shoulder to call Harry - but he was too late. They had been too slow, and one of the death eaters had emerged and grabbed Harry at the last minute. 

His laughter was so husky he sounded like some kind of manly beast, and he taunted, “Not too good at hide and seek, are ya boy?” 

And then he was hauled through another door and before the others could stop him, the door slammed and Harry knew that their room was spinning again, they wouldn’t be able to instantly locate him. As the death eater dragged him, Harry grumbled, “Get off of me!” and tried to reach for his wand, but his arms were pinned too tightly together, and the wizard was being so rough that he almost dropped the prophecy. 

“‘Ere Malfoy, I got ‘im! He ain’t even trying!” 

Somehow, Harry managed to wrestle free from the wizard’s grip, and as he did so he yelled, “Stupefy!” and pointed his wand at him. 

The wizard fell flat on his back, Harry just about had time to stow the prophecy deep into the pocket of his school robes before turning and darting in the direction of where he had last seen Ron. He almost yelled his name, but knew that that would be stupid; firstly because Ron was passed out and secondly because that would give away his location. Trying not to waste time getting frustrated, Harry managed to find his way back out to the entrance chamber - but it wasn’t empty. A death eater with a balding head stood with Luna and Ginny, but he was wandless, it looked as if Ginny had just disarmed him and Luna was hurrying to pick up his wand and hold it out of his reach. 

Despite being defenseless, though, the man saw Harry and yelled, “MALFOY! IT’S POTTER, HE’S-”

“Silencio!” Harry said, and the man’s mouth continued to move but no sound came out. 

Ignoring the man’s frantic mouthing, he asked the girls, “Where’s Ron?” 

They opened their mouths to answer, but before they even got the chance, another door opened and of course, just their luck, Malfoy emerged. Evidently, he had given up on pretending to be reasonable. His beady eyes narrowed, and he fixed Harry with a look of utter most hatred. It really wasn’t the look you wanted to get from the father of the love of your life, whether you were together or not. 

Harry tried to fire a curse at Malfoy, but it was a wasted effort - Malfoy disarmed him immediately, and the effect of the spell didn’t just make Harry’s wand fall from his hand, it also hit him like a punch. Suddenly, the pain in his forehead that he had managed to forget in the rush of the fight began to pulse again, and he had to really fight the urge to scream. 

“Expelli-” Ginny started to say, but with a wordless flick of his wand, Lucius had knocked both her and Luna to the ground. 

In one easy movement, Lucius grabbed a hold of Harry’s robes and pulled him after him. Immediately, the cold chill that tingled down Harry’s spine made it clear that they were in that room with the dais, where he and Luna had heard creepy whispering. That really wasn’t what he needed - it made seem pretty much impossible to even attempt to face Lucius bravely. 

“I tried to make it easy for you, Potter.” Lucius said coolly, releasing his hold on the young boy and shoving him into the centre of the room. “And yet, as usual, you just couldn’t play by the rules.” 

Fighting the need to collapse onto the ground as much as he could, Harry shook his aching head, “You weren’t playing by the rules either! Attacking a bunch of-”

“ _ Silence!” _ Lucius cut him off, and Harry, feeling pathetic, actually fell silent. 

“Give me the prophecy or I’ll kill you.” He said simply, “And if you don’t give it to me, I’ll torture you until you’re  _ begging  _ for death.”

It already felt as if Harry was being tortured, he didn’t know what was happening - was it Voldemort? Was it simply the strain of everything pounding him? 

He felt as if he was to close to doubling over and throwing up, but Harry struggled through and managed to hold himself up straight, and he lifted his empty hands. Though he could feel the cold glass of the orb in his pocket, he stuttered a lie, “Too bad. One- one of your minions destroyed it. Don’t think your master will be very happy, do you?” 

“You lie!” Lucius hissed sharply, but just as he started to try and summon the prophecy, his own wand flew out of his hand. 

Shocked, Harry stared wildly in the direction of the door - it was Sirius and Remus. They had entered the room, and they weren’t alone; they were closely followed by others. Mad-Eye, Tonks,  _ Dumbledore _ . 

“You’re here!” Harry tried to say, but he was getting more breathless by the second. 

“Split up!” Mad-Eye ordered, ignoring Harry’s greeting, but Sirius and Remus offered him brief smiles; it was difficult for them to do so when they were so fixed on the fury of the fight. Still, Harry didn’t care - Sirius was alive! 

“Harry, where are the others?” Tonks asked, and Harry shrugged. 

He watched as the majority of their heroes darted off to help Harry’s friends, but Sirius stayed. He was storming forwards, towards Lucius, and Harry wondered what he was about to do - but when he turned around, Lucius had disapparated. 

“No!” Sirius shrieked. Then, he rounded on Harry, and his face paled. 

“You look awful, son.” he commented, “Where’s the prophecy?” 

Harry tried to speak, to say he was fine and that it was in his pocket; but that alone was enough to tell him he definitely wasn’t fine. He could barely get the words out, all that happened were gasps for air. 

“Stay here.” Sirius said, “We’ll deal with everything, just stay here-”

“But-”

“Don’t move, Harry, d’you hear me?”

He didn’t say anything else, just raced from the room. For a second, Harry was worried - he was alone and wandless! But Sirius wouldn’t  have left him alone if it weren’t safe, he assumed that Dumbledore had probably rounded up all of the death eaters and was ready to hand them into the minister. 

Never before had he been so wrong. Not even seconds after he had said that, the door burst open and Bellatrix and Lucius came swarming in. Bellatrix had both Hermione and Neville with her, they were beaten and wandless and she had done something to make it impossible for them to move on their own free will - she had them under the imperius curse. Harry felt sick, he tried to get to his feet. He really shouldn’t have been left wandless.

“I’ll call him right now.” Bellatrix said, she sounded as if she were close to getting a meal she had been starving for, and she lifted her arm and was about to press a mark on her arm - Harry knew that it was the dark mark. His eyes widened. 

“No! Dumbledore is here, and The Dark Lord said now isn’t the time for his reveal. We’re to get the prophecy and leave!” Lucius yelled, and then he turned towards Harry. 

“One last chance, Potter! Give us the prophecy and nobody gets hurt!”

“I told you! It’s not here!” Harry tried to shout, but it came out weak and feeble, he sounded pathetic even to his own ears. Hermione clearly knew it wasn’t the truth, but Neville looked incredibly disappointed, Bellatrix and Malfoy looked absolutely livid. 

Without a second of hesitation, he fired his wand, “CRUCIO!” 

Instantly, Harry braced himself for the excruciating pain - but it never came. Instead, it hit somebody else.  _ Draco.  _

 

*****************

 

As the doors opened again, everybody but Dumbledore and the other death eaters came swarming into the little room. Harry was dimly aware of Remus carrying Ginny, Tonks was carrying Luna. Mad-Eye hit Lucius easily and the old wizard was instantly stupefied. Sirius had begun to duel with Bellatrix, shouting at her to step away from his godson. Staring around at the aurors, she took one last look at her brother-in-law, Lucius, before she fled from the room. Sirius was immediately after her, and Remus was on their heels as he lowered Ginny onto the floor. 

Harry, however, wasn’t paying any attention to this. All he could do was scream. Time froze. The next thing he knew he had dropped onto his knees at Draco’s side, and he was screeching. Crying, bawling, and fighting the extremely strong desire to pass out. 

He didn’t even know what had happened, but Draco was losing consciousness, his eyes were closing as blood seeped through his shirt. 

“Harry…” he croaked, “Harry, I should have-”

“What in the name of merlin are you doing here?” Harry bawled, he couldn’t take it anymore. The pain, the fear, the stress, the shock, it was all too much. He didn’t care about the prophecy in his pocket, he didn’t care that everybody around them was watching. He didn’t care about the whereabouts of Dumbledore and the death eaters. 

All he cared about was that Draco looked as if he was on his deathbed and nobody even took any notice. 

“Harry, I- I’m sorry.” Draco whispered, his lips were quickly turning white. “I love you, from the moment I first kissed you at the ball, I’ve loved you.”

Around them, people were murmuring, Hermione was watching. Everybody was watching and discussing the scene before them. 

“What’s Malfoy doing here?” Hermione asked, “Why is Harry helping him?”

Ron shushed her, though, and she fell quiet, watching with curious eyes. 

 

“Draco,” Harry said, feeling as if his heart was being ripped apart by torturous talons, he was shaking so badly he thought he might collapse there and then. “Draco, where does it hurt?” 

Draco didn’t tell him where it hurt. Instead, he spoke basically inaudible, “I’m sorry I didn’t warn you. I hope- I hope you’ll forgive me. I love you, Harry Potter.”

He was losing life. Harry knew it, he could feel it. He was holding tightly onto Draco’s hands, squeezing desperately, shaking his head in utter denial. 

“Don’t talk like that Draco, you idiot. Of course I forgive you - you’re here. You- you saved me.”

“Saving you is the only way I’d have it.” Draco mumbled, and Harry didn’t have to ask to know what he was talking about. Draco himself thought he was dying, the amount of ferociously fueled anger Malfoy had fired into the curse directed for Harry had been deadly, yet it had hit Draco instead. His own son. 

“WHY ARE NONE OF YOU HELPING?” Harry screamed, the sound shocking even himself as he yelled at the others, all of whom stood about watching. 

He saw Hermione and he saw Ron, both watching the scenes unfurl with a mixture of sadness and uncertainty. He stared at Mad-Eye, “HELP HIM! HEAL HIM!” 

But Mad-Eye shook his head, as if to say it couldn’t be done. 

“SOMEBODY!” Harry cried. 

He felt empty. All that filled his hollowness was terror - he was about to lose Draco. He didn’t care about the prophecy, he should have just given it to Lucius from the very beginning and none of this would have happened. His friends were injured - and he was about to lose Draco.

Nobody moved, and Harry didn’t know what to do. He didn’t have a wand, he couldn’t do anything. 

“Harry, they can’t help me.” Draco struggled to say, “I don’t deserve their help, this is all my fault.”

“No, no no don’t say that. Draco,” his heartbeats escalated, his chest was being whacked so hard by his own heart he thought he might stop being able to breathe. 

Draco’s eyes were closing. They were actually closing. Draco- he was dying. Desperately, Harry leaned forwards and pressed his mouth to Draco’s. He had to kiss him, he didn’t believe in that stuff but maybe it would do  _ something _ , anything! It had to. But already, Draco felt cold, he didn’t kiss back. He made a pained noise, though, and Harry knew tears were streaming down his cheeks. 

How could this be? How… he didn’t understand. His brain wasn’t working. 

Everything seemed silent. 

He couldn’t hear his own shrieks of pain, he couldn’t hear his own screeching begs, asking somebody,  _ anybody  _ to bring him back. His tears fell onto Draco as he cradled his body in his arms. 

Someone came and sat down beside him. He thought it was Ron, but it was Hermione. She looked completely lost, but she put an arm around Harry. Then, she placed her hand lightly across Draco’s chest, and she did it as if she were afraid. She  _ was  _ afraid of Draco - and she had just found out that Harry was  _ in love with him _ . 

She didn’t accuse him of anything, she didn’t ask him how long it had been going on. Instead she said softly, “Harry, he isn’t dead. He’s just unconscious and he needs the hospital immediately.” 

Harry knew she was lying. She was just trying to make him stop crying. He’d lost Draco. He didn’t want to do anything more. He didn’t want to fight the pain in his head, he didn’t want to fight the exhaustion. 

  
He curled up into a ball, and he shut his eyes. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope this chapter was written okay - you can probably tell i'm not very good at action scenes!  
> thank you for reading x


	29. feel real

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this chapter starts off so sad, but it picks up at the end!  
> can you believe this is the penultimate update?!  
> thank you so much for sticking around this far :D

The first thing Harry was aware of was that he was in a room full of blinding white light. Next, that his head felt completely numb, and finally, that he wasn’t alone. He could hear gentle murmurings all around him, but his head felt too fuzzy to even be able to tell who exactly it was. Slowly, though, he started to recognise the familiar voice of Mrs Weasley. 

“I can’t believe nobody stopped you from going!” she was saying to someone that Harry couldn’t see, “You could have died!”

“Alright, mum, we thought- we didn’t know it was a trap. We thought Sirius had been captured and Harry… you know Harry would never let him die!” 

It was Ron, he seemed to be in a bed next to Harry. If Harry had been more aware, he would have realised how everybody went strangely silent, and something odd seemed to fill the air. He thought over what Ron had said - slowly, but then all at once, memories of everything came flooding back in. He didn’t want to open his eyes, he didn’t think he could bear to face everybody… but he didn’t know what had happened. The last thing he remembered was… 

_ Draco!  _ His head suddenly screamed at him, and he felt ridiculous for even trying to fight off sleep. Bolting upright, he didn’t waste any time looking around at his visitors, or at anyone else, he just called out for him. Instantly, Madame Pomfrey appeared from her little office, shaking her head. 

“No, no, Mr Potter, you need bedrest!” 

“But-”

“Sit!” She said sharply, and she pressed his shoulders so he had no choice but to lie back against the pillows. Now that he was awake, she started taking his vitals, but he took no notice to her. Instead, his eyes fell on Remus, he was sat closest to him on a too-small chair. Harry had never seen the hospital wing quite so full - he glanced to his side and found Ron looking at him warily, beside him was Hermione, and then opposite were Luna and Neville. All of them were awake and staring at him, he couldn’t quite distinguish the looks on their faces. There was no sign of Draco. 

Feeling the dark cloud of dread setting in, he slumped even further down, and he didn’t even bother trying to fight the tears from streaming down his cheeks. How could this be? How… He couldn’t speak anymore, he couldn’t bear to think about anything. 

“Harry!” Mrs Weasley said, and she rushed over to him in a flustered rush and immediately started smoothing down his mess of black hair and his bedding, much to Madame Pomfrey’s dissatisfaction.  “Thank goodness you’re alright!” 

But he wasn’t alright. He shook his head, he couldn’t even try to smile at her. He didn’t want her fussing over him, he didn’t deserve it. He had rushed into some stupid trap and because of it… Draco was dead. He’d lost Draco, the love of his life. He was gone forever… 

Seeming to notice his less than joy about being ‘alright’, Mr Weasley reached over and placed a hand over Molly’s. “Come on, dear, sit back down. Harry doesn’t need us fussing over him.”

He tried to offer Mr Weasley a grateful smile, but even that seemed impossible. He couldn’t do  _ anything _ . He just felt… empty. 

He couldn’t think of one thing to make him feel better, he just couldn’t. Everything seemed pointless, he just wanted someone to hold him. Not just anyone, he wanted  _ Draco _ . His Draco. Then, he thought, there was only one other person who might truly understand. Sirius had lost his best friend, his everything, maybe he would be able to relate. 

As Madame Pomfrey moved to see to Neville, Harry turned to Remus, wondering how on earth he had missed Sirius, but… he wasn’t there. Next to Remus was Tonks. No Sirius. Frowning, he shook his head, wondering where he’d gotten to. Had he been captured by the ministry? Had they taken him back to Azkaban? 

His heart pounded. Surely he hadn’t been sent back to that hell-hole of a dungeon? 

“Where’s Sirius?” he asked, his voice sounded broken and cracked, though as terrible as he sounded it didn’t come anywhere close to how he  _ felt _ . Not only had he gotten Draco killed, he’d also gotten Sirius sent back to jail! He felt like he was about to be sick. “Did Fudge catch him? Is- is he in Azkaban?” 

Remus, however, shook his head. He looked completely lost for words, but also… sad. More sad than Harry had ever seen… and then Harry remembered the ghostly chill that had settled into the air at the mention of his godfather. Wide eyed, he turned to look at Ron, who looked as if he were close to sobbing himself. 

“Mate…” he started, but Harry didn’t want to hear it. 

He turned to the others, but Mr and Mrs Weasley were quiet, not meeting his eyes. Nobody was saying anything, nobody knew  _ what  _ to say. Not that Harry would have let them. He wanted to get up out of bed, but he knew they would just tell him to lie back down. Before he knew it, he was sobbing, loud ugly sobbing. “Where’s Sirius?” he demanded, “Where’s my godfather?” 

Everything was silent, all that could be heard were his wracking cries like cracks of thunder through a silent night. 

Eventually, maybe she took pity on him or just wanted to stop him from being so loud, Luna clambered out of her bed. Madame Pomfrey looked as if she wanted to stop her, but clamped her mouth shut as the Ravenclaw girl walked slowly over to Harry. She squished herself into the tiny amount of space left on the bed, putting her arm around him and holding him close. That just made him cry harder. 

Nobody had said it, but he knew. He didn’t want to know, knowing would kill him, but then he wished somebody would just hurry up and get it over with. Luna did. As everyone watched, looking pained and sorry and completely lost, she shushed Harry gently. Soon, his scraping gasps came to a standstill and he fell quiet, heavy breaths issuing from his chest, completely hollow but for the torturous, searing pain. 

 

“I’m sorry, Harry.” Luna said, and it seemed strange to hear her speaking without her matter-of-fact manner, but rather incredibly true and honest and  _ emotional _ . She rarely showed her true emotions, but when she spoke, it was completely raw. “Sirius died. Bellatrix killed him.” 

It was true. It was real. He’d lost Draco and Sirius, two of the people he loved the most. He had thought that would make him cry harder; but instead, he fell nearly silent. He went into a state of utter shock, shaking and shaking and trembling and trembling. Luna held him tight, just enough that he didn’t crash completely. It felt like she was the only thing keeping him together. 

 

“Do you want to see Draco?” she asked. 

Harry froze. How could she say something so cruel? How could Luna, sweet, loving Luna say something like that? He stared at her, not sure whether to be angry or bewildered. However, Luna just gave him a small smile. “He’s alright, Harry. Hermione helped to stop the blood and we got him here just in time.” 

Harry was shocked. Hermione… had  _ saved  _ Draco? He wasn’t dead? 

“What?” he gasped, disbelieving. “But… he was dead, how-”

“He wasn’t.” That wasn’t Luna, it was Hermione. She had come to sit on his other side without anybody noticing. “He wasn’t dead, he just needed urgent help.”

Suddenly, Harry wasn’t empty. He was filled with awe as he stared at her in wonder. After everything Draco had done to Hermione, how cruel she had been… she had saved his life. Of course, she did it just because she was a decent human being but - maybe, what motivated her, was seeing just how much Harry loved him. 

“You-” he started, but he couldn’t find any words. 

She smiled, a sad smile, but it was there nonetheless. “He’s alive, Harry. He’s over there.”

She pointed to the corner. 

There was a tight square of curtains pulled shut, Draco must have been behind them. Something tugged at Harry’s heart, rough but warm and hopeful too. He hadn’t lost everything! He turned back to Hermione, shaking his head. He didn’t know whether to believe it, but the way he was suddenly feeling couldn’t have been there if Draco were dead. The coldness left. Of course, there was still the weight of Sirius, but… Draco was alive. Harry felt guilty for being so happy about it, he shouldn’t have been so happy when his godfather was dead. He just couldn’t help it, though. Draco… 

“I need to see him.” he said, “Please, Madame Pomfrey, I’ll go straight back to bed after!” 

Hermione and Luna moved out the way so that he could clearly see her, and everybody else was staring at her, too. Looking as if she really wished she could say no, she gave him a nod and marched over to the curtains. 

He looked so apart and hidden from everything else. She yanked them open, and it was like Harry had seen a new life. Draco was asleep, he looked like a beautifully wounded angel, his eyelids closed lightly. His chest, though, was rising and falling. Against the clean white sheets, he looked paler than ever, as white as snow. It took a moment, Harry’s legs suddenly felt like jelly. Somehow, he managed to step out of the bed. He had a small ache in his leg and his head still hurt, but it may as well have been nothing. Suddenly, seeing Draco had made him feel as light as a feather. Not caring that everybody was watching him, not even thinking about the fact that what he had tried to hide for so long was now out in the open, Harry floated over to the corner. He sat down on the end of Draco’s bed, staring at his face. 

He memorised the curves of his cheekbones, the dark purple hollows of his eyes, the way his blond hair fell around his face. He held onto his hand, and when he did, Draco sighed a little in his sleep. His hand was warm, blood clearly pulsing through his body. It had been so long since they had been close, but Harry didn’t care about the fact that he had broken up with Draco before. The secret was out now, and he didn’t give a damn. He recognised every single thing about the feel of Draco’s hand laced with his, and he held it close. He was never letting him go again. Carefully so as not to wake him, though he really wished he would wake up so he could hear his voice and his laugh, Harry pressed a light kiss against his hand. It made butterflies scatter all through his chest and his stomach. 

“Okay, Mr Potter.” Madame Pomfrey said, “He should wake from the sleeping draft in a couple of hours, you can see him then.” 

Harry never wanted to leave his side. The thought of going back to the opposite side of the room filled him with fear that he would actually lose him - but when he glanced back over to his bed, he saw everybody watching him. He had to explain to them, he had to tell them everything. He had to tell them he was gay, and that alone was enough to terrify him. 

But it was worth it. For Draco, anything would be worth it, as long as he got to be with him. Before he went back, Harry pressed a kiss against his forehead. He wanted to cry, tears of joy and happiness. He had his Draco. His angel boy - his guardian. Draco, who had been so scared of how he felt about Harry, had risked everything to save Harry, even risked getting tortured by his very own father. 

Reluctantly, Harry shuffled back over to his bed, but it felt wrong. He kept glancing back at Draco, worrying that if he left him, the next moment he would be gone. 

The moment he got back to his bed, Luna went back to her own, but Hermione stayed. And Harry didn’t mind. 

In fact, he liked it. Because the way that they sat so close that their limbs were tangled and she held tightly onto his hand showed that despite everything, she loved him. She didn’t care who he loved, boy or girl, Malfoy or not - and he couldn’t believe he had ever expected any less of her. They were best friends. Of course, that didn’t mean she wasn’t confused. 

“So - you love Draco?” she asked, “How long for?”

She wasn’t just asking for herself, she was asking for everybody. Slowly, Harry let his gaze meet everybody else’s. Remus, Mr and Mrs Weasley, Tonks, Neville. Ron and Luna were nodding encouragingly, and Hermione’s hand tightened its hold even more. 

“Over a year.” he said. He wasn’t sure what he expected - gasps, cries, accusations of his betrayal. 

Instead, they were all quiet and patient. His heart ached again - he had really underestimated them. His friends, his family. How had he ever expected any less of them? 

“We, uh… well. I don’t really know how it happened. I just know that I love him.” it felt like such a relief to say, he immediately relaxed. 

He hadn’t even realised, but ever since it had first started, he had felt so tense. But now, as the truth fell from his tongue, his entire body, his muscles and his soul and his head, it all relaxed. 

“I’m in love with Draco Malfoy, and I was afraid of what you would all think, and he was afraid too, so we kept it a secret. And I’m sorry, I should have trusted you.”

He turned to look completely at Hermione, she didn’t really look like she understood but when he looked at her, she smiled. A soft and understanding smile, and she wrapped her arms around him and gave him as tight a hug as she could manage. 

Then, Mrs Weasley was at his side too. She kissed him on the forehead, and her easy motherly gestures always felt like an incredibly pleasant surprise. 

“Oh Harry, we love you no matter what. No matter who  _ you  _ love, we love you.” she said, and then mumbled, “I’m not really the biggest fan of the Malfoy’s-”

“Molly.” Arthur warned her, but you could hear the faint smile in his voice. 

“-But that’s besides the point. We love you and that’s all that is important.”

Harry felt so overwhelmed. Not that he would ever expect any of the people in the room to be anything but accepting - he  _ knew  _ they cared about him. They were all in the waiting room, they’d all come to rescue them. The summers he spent with the Weasley’s, the christmases, Remus always being the kind and caring mentor that he was. Sirius…

Then he remembered, Sirius wasn’t there to say anything. He’d never know how Sirius felt about him, whether he thought he was wrong for loving a boy, a Malfoy at that. It was as if Remus could read his mind. He spoke in his gentle voice. 

“Sirius would just want you to be happy, Harry.” he said. 

Harry knew that that was very true indeed. 

He knew he would never take his happiness for granted again. 

 

****************

 

Later, after all the guests had left, Harry was the only one awake. He sat in his hospital bed, and he looked around at his friends, or at least tried to, the night made the room almost completely pitch black other than a few candles. Ron, snoring beside him with an injured leg, Hermione, curled up on her side. Neville snoring too, across from him, Luna seemed to sleep bundled up under all the blankets. In the far corner, Draco still gleamed in the darkness, whenever Harry looked at him it felt like he got magical stardust in his eyes. 

“Do you really love him?” 

He jumped, he hadn’t even realised Ginny was awake. She didn’t have as much injuries as the others, she was perfectly fine, really; but she had convinced Madame Pomfrey to let her stay in the hospital wing, insisting she couldn’t possibly leave. She spoke quietly as not to wake the others. 

Harry looked from her, to Draco, and then back to her. Ginny hated Malfoy, she never kept that a secret. Not that he blamed her, the Malfoy’s were cruel to the Weasley’s. Nobody else really knew that Draco was nothing like them, not deep down. Reluctantly, and a little guiltily, he nodded. 

“I really do.” he said. 

To his complete surprise, Ginny smiled, he could just about make it out in the dim light. She nodded as if she understood, and was about to lie back down to sleep more. 

“Do you hate me?” he asked. 

She looked incredibly offended. “Hate you?” she scoffed, “Of course I don’t bloody hate you!”

She left it at that, and settled down to rest in a noisy fashion, probably to emphasise her annoyance at Harry thinking she could possibly hate him. He smiled to himself. 

“Maybe now that the truth is out, he’ll stop being such a git.” she said into the darkness, her voice muffled. 

Harry laughed. It was a short laugh though, and it quickly died out. He felt saddened by the fact that just because the truth was out, it probably wouldn’t change anything. The others had informed him that Dumbledore had sent all of the death eaters to Azkaban, other than Bellatrix who had escaped. Apparently there had also been a massive fight between Dumbledore and Voldemort, and the ministry had walked right it on it. 

“Quite a shot in their own foot, ‘innit?” Ron had said earlier. “A year of denying he’s back and then when they get proof it’s right in front of them.”  

Even if Lucius was in Azkaban, though, the Malfoys were still his enemies. They probably just hated him more… and he didn’t know how on earth Draco would react to the discovery that everybody knew. Would he blame Harry? 

 

“I’ll always be a git.”

The familiarity of the voice seemed like something completely new. Draco was awake, and it sent buzzes of energy through Harry like never before. Ignoring the fact that Mrs Pomfrey would probably hate him if she found him out of bed, he didn’t hesitate before practically leaping across the room and climbing onto Draco’s bed. He pulled the curtains shut around them, and Ginny seemed to have already fallen asleep. 

Only when he was sure they had complete privacy did Harry let himself take in Draco. He was struggling to a seated position, but he was smiling ever so slightly. He was alive and he was okay. Not bothering to speak, Harry threw himself at Draco and pulled him in for a kiss. It felt like the only thing keeping the two of them alive, and Harry was very glad that he had shut the curtains because he felt so exposed. The kiss broke down everything, he was free and alive. Draco grinned into the kiss, but soon he made a little pained gasp and Harry felt impossibly stupid and guilty. He went to move away, but Draco stopped him and pulled him down onto him. They kissed some more, it felt like words would never be enough. 

“You’re such an idiot.” Harry said at last, and Draco laughed. He laughed and it was the most beautiful thing Harry had ever heard. 

“You’d be dead if it weren’t for me, Potter.” he said, a teasing mimic to his usual tone of arrogance that he saved for Harry in public places. 

“I thought you  _ were  _ fucking dead!” Harry said, “Don’t you ever do that to me again, or I’ll kill you myself! I thought - you looked so…”

“Hey.” Draco stopped him, sensing Harry was about to start bumbling on, and there was no teasing. His voice was suddenly so careful and just  _ sorry _ . “You won’t get rid of me that easily.” 

Suddenly, he didn’t even know why, but Harry burst into tears. He couldn’t do anything about it, he just knew he was sobbing. Draco pulled him even closer, not even caring that it made himself ache even more, he just wanted Harry as close to him as possible. They didn’t want to talk. 

There were so many things they could say. Harry could apologise for ending things, and then Draco could apologise for not warning him, and then Harry could apologise for the fact that Draco nearly died to save him. Harry could tell Draco that his father was in prison, he could tell Draco about the battle or about Umbridge getting sacked and sent back to work at the ministry. There was so much, but all they wanted to do was to kiss and to hug and to be close. So that’s what they did. 

 

“I love you.” Harry said against Draco’s skin. It felt like he could never say it enough. 

Draco stroked a hand through his hair, and Harry leaned into the comforting touch. “I love you more.” 

“Not possible.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope this was okay! I'll probably be posting the final chapter tomorrow, I can't believe this is the end!  
> But as I've said previously, I'll be doing a sequel, so stay tuned :D


	30. at last

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it, the final chapter!! Thank you so much for reading, I really hope you enjoyed Dirty Little Secret and that this chapter is okay :D

**One week later**

 

The end of the school year was nearing. Umbridge was gone, Dumbledore was back, and the OWLs were over. It was no longer the stress of exams keeping Harry awake, but the fear of the nightmares that would come at night. He couldn’t always be with Draco, so the nights he spent alone in his bed up in the dormitory felt lonely and cold. Maybe they knew, maybe they didn’t, but Ron and Hermione had taken to staying up into the late hours with him, sat around the fire. Occasionally Neville and Ginny would join them, their encounter at the ministry seemed to have brought them together. Mostly, Harry would stay quiet, listening to the others chatter - it was better than being alone with his thoughts, even if he didn’t actually talk. That night, though, it was the day before they were set to be leaving for home. As he sat on the floor with his back against the sofa, knees pulled up to his chest, Harry thought over what he was going to say. He’d wanted to talk to the others properly about everything with Draco, but he hadn’t been able to. The moment never seemed right, and he felt bad for worrying about that considering… everything else. Whenever he thought about the fact that he would never see Sirius again, his chest ached. No, it didn’t even  _ ache _ , it was like a stabbing wound that just got worse and worse the more it bled out. Eventually, though, in the dim candlelight, the three of them were sat in near silence. 

Deciding it was a good a moment as any, Harry said, “I’m sorry for never telling you.” 

He spoke in a small voice, as if he was scared of how they would react. Of course, he knew he never needed to be afraid of how they would react, they would never hate him for anything, they’d made that perfectly clear. 

Both of his best friends looked at him, the same way they had been looking at him every day for the past week. Like they were trying to look at him as if nothing changed, but it was too hard to hide behind the sad sympathy. 

“I just… I didn’t want to admit it, at first. So I hid it, and then the thought of unhiding it- it was just too much. And you know what Draco is like, I thought you would hate me, and-”

“Harry.” Hermione cut him off, her voice soft. She got up from her armchair and moved to sit down beside him, leaning her head gently on his shoulder. “You don’t have to explain.”

“But-”

“She’s right, mate.” Ron said. “We get it, and we know the truth now. That’s all that matters.” 

Harry tried to smile, but he couldn’t. He was finding it very hard to smile these days, the only times he could were the rare moments Draco managed to cheer him up.  

“We love you no matter what, you daft dingbat.” Hermione said, adding a joking tone in an attempt to get him to crack a smile, nudging his side. 

Harry looked from one to the other, and somehow, the corners of his lips twitched upwards. He couldn’t believe that he had ever thought about cutting his best friends out of anything. They were there for him, always. 

“I love you guys, too.” he said. It was only when he said the words that he realised he should have told them that more often. One of his biggest regrets was that not only did he spend very little time with his godfather before he died, but he didn’t really tell him that he loved him. Since losing Sirius, he’d started to realise a lot of things he should have been doing, he’d thought of so many ways to try and appreciate his life a little bit more. 

It was hard, his last relative (he didn’t count the Dursleys) being gone… but with friends like Ron and Hermione, and with Draco, and the many other people that he was lucky to have; maybe, just maybe, everything would be okay. 

 

**********************

 

Early the next morning, Harry awoke to find the sunlight brightly beaming through the gaps in the curtains. He’d only gotten a couple of hours sleep, but he didn’t really care. He could always sleep on the train if he wanted, and he just wanted to spend as much time as he could with Draco before they said goodbye for the summer. Quickly, he dressed into some jeans and a thin T-shirt before heading outside. The grounds were deserted, it was even too early for breakfast to start being served, but he made his way to the lake and sure enough, Draco was already there waiting. He had his back to Harry, gazing out across the water and admiring the view. For a moment, Harry took some time to watch him. He looked like he shone a pale golden light under the morning sky. As he realised that, Harry also noticed that he so rarely got to see Draco outside. And now they didn’t have to hide - they could be with each other as much as they wanted. They hadn’t been in public a lot, they still weren’t quite sure if they were ready, yet he was pretty sure that it was common knowledge. The news that Draco Malfoy had nearly died trying to save Harry Potter, who everybody believed was his school nemesis, had probably travelled like wildfire. Eventually, as if sensing him, Draco noticed Harry behind him and turned to look over his shoulder. 

“Potter!” he called, “What are you doing lingering in the bushes?”

Slowly, Harry felt his cheeks warm, but in a nice way. It made his skin tingle slightly and he began to make his way across to Draco. He felt a little sad as he approached him, Draco had been one of the only things to keep his life from going completely dark and now he wouldn’t be seeing him for a whole six weeks. 

“Hey.” he said, and then his eyes widened. He couldn’t even help it, he didn’t realise that he was grinning. Draco had found a picnic blanket and laid out breakfast foods - toast, boiled eggs, pancakes, orange juice. It was perfect. 

“Hi.” Draco said, and he grinned back. It was strange, seeing him so happy. “Sit down, then, we only have a few hours until we have to get the train.” 

Not needing to be told twice, Harry sat down beside him. The lake looked wonderful in the dawnlight, but all he wanted to focus on was Draco. Turning to face him, he couldn’t stop himself from lifting his hand and stroking it across his cheek. He couldn’t stop himself for leaning up to kiss him, he couldn’t stop himself from thinking about everything he wanted to do with him and he couldn’t stop himself from thinking about how lucky he was to have him. Finally, after everything, they could be together. It didn’t matter that they were in the middle of the school and anybody could see them, it didn’t matter what everybody thought. They just didn’t care. It was them, Harry and Draco. 

“I’m going to miss you.” Harry whispered. He had to whisper because if he spoke properly, it’d make his voice crack. 

His gaze softening, Draco lightly cupped his hand around Draco’s chin tilting his face up so he could kiss him. It was a hard kiss, strong and passionate and certain. When they broke apart, it was only for a brief second, just enough time for Draco to say, “I’ll miss you more.”

It was like a drug, once they kissed once it was impossible for them to stop. Moving to press himself as close to Draco as possible, Harry kissed him even harder, even stronger. It was intense and careful yet completely reckless all at once. 

“Hey,” Draco said breathily, “At least now, everyone knows you’re telling the truth about You-Know-Who being back.” 

Rolling his eyes a little, Harry pulled Draco into him, stroking a hand through his blond hair. “Of course you’d ruin the moment by talking about Voldemort.” 

Imitating Harry’s look, Draco playfully shoved him so that he was lying down, and Harry pulled him down with him; the two of them getting lost in a bundle of laughter and kisses. Pausing, Draco held himself up onto his hands, hovering above Harry. Leaning down a little so that their noses almost brushed, he said, “I need to see you this summer.” 

Harry had thought he would never ask - he just hadn’t wanted to say anything himself. Desperately, he nodded, “I’d love to.” 

Then, their lips instantly fused back together. People would soon be waking up and emerging for one last summer walk around the castle, but it didn’t matter. They felt  _ free _ . 

Eventually, they remembered their forgotten breakfast, reluctantly breaking apart with low chuckles to feast on the food Draco had persuaded the house elves to give them. As they had nothing to distract them, Harry soon found himself thinking sad thoughts again, watching the rippling of the water. 

“Hey.” Draco cut into his thoughts, and his hand laced through Harry’s over the blanket, “What are you thinking about?” 

Harry was reluctant to say it, he hadn’t really been open about his thoughts, but he had decided not to keep anything private. “I was just wondering… what lengths he’ll go to. You know, he used Sirius to get to me, and Sirius- well. Who else will Voldemort hurt because of me?” 

Looking incredibly sad and guilty all of a sudden, Draco shook his head. “Harry, you don’t need to worry like that.”

“But-”

“ _ Hey _ .” Draco stopped him, and he turned Harry’s head to face him, looking him right in the eyes. “We’ll take each day as it comes. And no matter what happens, no matter what he does - I’m with you Harry. For every step of the way, I’m with you.”

Harry found himself thinking about more… would Draco always be with him?

As if he could read his mind, he said, “Hey,  _ Potter _ .” his joking teasing tone returning, but just barely, sensing quite how seriously Harry was taking it. “I don’t care what my family say, I don’t care about anything but you. You’re all I want, Harry.” 

It seemed entirely foreign. They’d been living with such secrecy, lies had started to seem natural, honesty seemed like a rarity. But now, after everything… they were honest. They could be whoever they wanted, they could say all that they wanted. 

“I love you.” Harry said. It felt lame compared to the minor speech Draco had just given, but it felt perfect. It was all they needed. 

“And I love you.” Draco whispered. 

Harry knew it would be tough. He had lost Sirius, he was going back to the Dursleys, Voldemort had publically returned to the Wizarding world. Dumbledore had said himself that things were going to change… but Harry was okay. 

And Draco was okay. 

They’d made it. 

  
FIN.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, thank you so much for reading!   
> I'll be working on the sequel, 'Wicked Game', and I've created it on my profile for you to check on for updates.   
> Lots of love xx


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